At The Time
by RandomPotterFan15
Summary: Fleur Delacour could never accept the fact she was part Veela. She despised the thought of having her mate chosen for her by fate. That was until she met Luna Lovegood. Unfortunately, Luna doesn't keep her train of thought very long. Can Fleur capture her attention? More importantly, can she capture her heart? Set during the Triwizard Tournament. Trigger Warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1: At The Time

**All Rights go to J.K Rowling. I just bend the story the way I believe it should be. Just kidding! (Or am I?)**

**Rated: MA for Violence, Suicidal tendencies, and Sexual content**  
**Pairing: Fleur/Luna**  
**Summary: Fleur Delacour could never accept the fact she was part Veela. She despised the thought of having her mate chosen for her by fate. Fleur was determined to rewrite her destiny by choosing her own soul mate. That was until she met Luna Lovegood. From the moment they met, Fleur was desperate to seek out her attention, but the airy blonde couldn't keep her focus on one thing for very long. Can Fleur capture Luna's attention? More importantly, can she capture her heart like the bubbly blonde did hers? **  
**Takes place during the Triwizard Tournament. I apologize in advance for my lack of knowledge on writing a French accent**.

Fleur could remember the first time she was informed what love was like. She learned the nature of the Veela. She was eight years old at the time.

" Maman, what is love like?" The young French witch asked her mother.

The French pair were seated in the garden in the backyard of the Delacour chateau. The sky above was an unusual gray. Apolline Delacour elegantly raised a perfect eyebrow. Of all the things that she assumed would escape her eight year old daughter's mouth, that wasn't one of them.

" Why do you ask, Fleur?" The matriarch asked her blue eyed, blonde haired miniature twin. Fleur glanced up at her mother with pure curiosity shining in her eyes.

" Because maman, we live in France, non? France is ze country of love is it not?" The girl asked in a thick accent. Apolline chuckled at her daughter's line of thinking.

" Right you are mon cher. May I ask once again, why you are so interested?" The Veela queried suspiciously. Fleur rolled her eyes at her mother's slow comprehension.

" 'ow will I know I am in love if I don't understand a zing on ze subject?" She asked slowly as if she were speaking to a child. Apolline smirked at the irony.

" Trust me, amour. When you meet ze one, you will know." The mother informed with a small smile. Fleur furrowed her eyebrows.

" Will ze time really stop?" Fleur looked panic stricken.

" Non, mon ange. Zat is just in ze movies. When you see your mate, everyzing else will zeize to matter. When your eyes meet, you will wonder 'ow you lived your life wizout them. It will be instantaneous." Apolline had a far off look in her eyes as she recounted the first time she met her husband.

" My mate?" The young witch was confused.

" Why of course! Every Veela, whezer you be a full one or not, 'as a mate. It is just a matter of time before you find your ozer 'alf." Apolline said enthusiastically. Fleur merely tilted her head slightly.

" You did not go into full detail about ze Veela, maman. Are you sure every Veela 'as a soul mate? What if I never meet mine?" Fleur looked on the brink of a panic attack. Apolline was quick to soothe her fears.

" I am quite sure, petit." Apolline's determined tone comforted Fleur somewhat.

The two fell into a comfortable silence. Fleur was busy gazing at the sky, and for that, she missed the loving look that crossed her mother's face. After a few minutes, Apolline led Fleur within the warmth of their home. Fleur was about to ascend the stairs to her room, but the voice of her mother paused her actions.

" Fleur, would you like to accompany me to my library? I 'ave a few books you could read on ze Veela." Apolline explained. Fleur smiled, and began to bounce with excitement.

" Oui! I would enjoy zat, maman." Apolline held back a laugh at her daughter's excitement.

Fleur was led by her mother to her library. They ascended the stairs, and entered the fourth door to the right. Apolline opened the door, and stepped aside for her daughter to enter first. Fleur ran to one of the chairs in the room, and waited patiently for her mother to find the book she suggested.

" _Accio Veela: Creatures of Love._" Apolline summoned the book from the higher shelf. Fleur peered on in wonder.

Apolline blew off the few dust particles that managed to stick to the cover of the book. When she deemed it clean enough, she turned towards her blonde daughter, and gave her a small smile. Fleur replied with a nervous smile.

" What 'as you so nervous, fille?" Apolline questioned with concern. Fleur shook her head quickly.

" Nozing, maman. What did you want to show me?" She attempted to change the subject from her rapidly increasing nerves.

" As you said before, you 'aven't enough information on your heritage. I simply want to give you ze chance to learn, jeune." Apolline admitted while opening the book. She skimmed through the contents until she found what she was looking for. She began to read aloud.

" _Veelas are alluring creatures. Many humans -wizard, witch, or muggle- fall under what is known as the thrall. It sends them in a daze, and the veela has control over the dazed human. While many fall under the thrall, there are very few who are resistant to it. Those who refuse to fall under the thrall are usually the mate of a veela. Finding a mate in a human is a rare occasion for a veela, but it is not unheard of. It is more common for veelas to find their soul mates among others of their kind. When a veela finds their mate, it is near impossible to part from them. Once the mates permorm the mating ritual, it is physically, and emotionally impossible to separate the_ _two._" Apolline read.

Fleur stiffened in the seat by the time the passage was finished. She was stunned, and everything was overwhelming her. The eight year old resulted in staring off into space, and closed herself off with only her thoughts. _I'm going to have a mate? Who is he? When will I meet him? What will he look like?_ Her thoughts were running rapid, and there was no controlling them.

" Fleur? Are you alright?" Apolline was hesitant by what she read, but there was no going back.

" I am fine, maman. Is it alright if I go to bed?" Fleur asked flatly.

" You 'aven't eaten ze dinner Ethral prepared." Apolline thought about the house elf's hard work.

" I am not 'ungry." Fleur whispered.Apolline wordlessly examined her daughter. Eventually, she nodded her head.

Apolline sighed as she watched her daughter exit the room as quickly as she entered. She began to regret informing her at such a young age, but if Fleur was anything like herself, she wouldn't stop until she was satisfied with the answers she demanded.

" Maman!" Her three year old daughter squeeled with delight as she hugged her mom's legs tightly. Apolline chuckled, and raised her daughter high in the air.

" Gabrielle!" She replied just as happy to see her tiny bundle of joy. Gabrielle giggled uncontrollably.

" I missed you!" Gabrielle admitted shyly. Apolline kissed her on both cheeks, which prompted another fit of giggles.

" Did you 'ave fun at your grandmozer's?" She asked with genuine curiosity. Gabrielle gave her a toothy grin.

" We went to ze beach!" She announced.

" You did? Zat sounds like fun, Gabby. 'ow about we 'ead down to ze dining room. Dinner is ready." Apolline said while descending the stairs.

" Where is Fleur?" The youngest daughter asked while looking around for her older sister. Apolline frowned in concern.

" She is going to bed earlier zan expected." Her mother explained cryptically.

...

When Fleur closed her door, she slid down to the floor. She pulled her knees to her chest, and placed her chin upon them. Her fears were beginning to overrun her senses. She was too young to think about things of the sort. She was supposed to be thinking about Beuxbatons, the school her mother attended. Now, all that occupied her mind was how she could look a random stranger in the eye, and her life would change forever.

Her breathing became erratic; Her heart began to beat faster; Her fear began to increase. She regret asking her mother. She regret not knowing before. She was unhappy with the veela blood that ran through her veins. Even if it was less than half. Fleur was depressed about the fact that half her soul belonged to a stranger.

Fleur sighed, then hoisted herself off her carpeted floor. While she was slowly walking towards her bed, she caught her reflection in the mirror. She paused, and sighed in frustration. She smoothed out her white sundress. She shook her head, and watched her curly hair bounce at the movement. Sighing once more, Fleur changed out of her dress, and put on her pajamas. She chanced one more glance at the mirror.

" Pourquoi ma vie ne doivent être comme ça?" She asked to anyone who would hear. Unfortunately, no one would answer.

...

Fleur could remember the first time she experienced what love was. She met the witch known as Luna Lovegood. She was a bubbly blonde who was full of energy. Fleur was fifteen at the time.

" Gabrielle! Revenez ici! Tout de suite!" Fleur shouted after her ten year old sister. As always, the younger of the two continued on her path.

" Gabby! What did I just say?" Fleur shouted at back of her sister's head.

Fleur was instructed to help her sister with buying the required supplies for her first year at Beuxbatons. She was busy focusing on the Firebolt she saw in the window of Francois's Broom Shop that she failed to notice right away that her younger sister slipped away. When she regained her senses on her surroundings, she began to panic when she didn't see Gabrielle. She soon found the ten year old examining the candy in Valim's Candy store. Fleur scolded her sister for a good five minutes before she forced her to promise she wouldn't run away again. That promise was broken not a minute later.

" Gabrielle Delacour! I will tell mère and père!" She tried. Gabrielle continued down the beaten path leading out of the view of the public eye. Gabrielle began to walk backwards while focusing her attention on her older sister.

" Je veux explorer, Fleur!" Gabrielle shouted. What she failed to notice however, was the blonde that had her nose buried in a magazine that was titled _The Quibbler_. With a loud thud, both of the blonde's fell to the ground.

Fleur rushed forward, and helped her sister off the ground. When Gabrielle was standing upright, Fleur turned to the stranger who was dusting herself off. Fleur bent down to pick up the magazine, and her fingers locked with smaller ones. She felt like electricity shot through her. In a good way. A fantastic way. If there was a such way. The other fingers snatched away quickly as if they were burned. She no doubt felt it too. When Fleur glanced up, her eyes locked with a pair of blue-gray eyes, and it felt like all the air was sucked from her lungs. Everything around her seemed to fade from her conscious mind, and she only had eyes for the perfect stranger before her. After what felt like hours, she cleared her throat, and noticed the slight blush that colored the young girls cheeks.

" I believe zis is yours." Fleur said while handing over the magazine. She was cautious of physical contact.

" Thank you." The young blonde whispered airily. Fleur smiled warmly despite her best efforts not to.

" It was ze least I could do. After all, it was my wrecking ball of a sister zat knocked you down, oui? My name is Fleur. Fleur Delacour." She replied while politely reching her hand out.

" My name is Luna Lovegood. Were you out searching for nargles too?" Luna asked curiously. Fleur and Gabrielle had a blank look on their faces.

" Um, is zat an English word?" Fleur asked baffled. Luna narrowed her eyes questioningly.

" It should be. You don't read _The Quibbler_ do you?" She asked. Fleur shook her head.

" I am afraid I 'ave not." Fleur answered honestly. Luna was silent for a moment before an idea came to her mind. She pushed the magazine into the older female's hands.

" You should catch up. If we were to ever meet again, you will know what a nargle is, and realize how crazy you are to not know what it is!" Luna exclaimed.

Fleur's heart picked up. _If we were to ever meet again._ Did that mean that she planned to see her again? _Don't be ridiculous! You just met! Well guess what, you're already falling for her._ I scowled in frustration. When Fleur looked up to respond, Luna was gone. Fleur inhaled sharply, and began to panic yet again that day.

" Wait! Luna! Come back." Fleur suddenly felt empty. She glanced over at Gabrielle, who was startled at the tears that were forming in Fleur's eyes.

" Quel est le problème?" The younger blonde asked with concern. Fleur exhaled shakily.

" Nozing. I am fine." Fleur lied. Lie lie lie! She felt broken, and that scared her beyond belief. She forced a smile for her sister's sake.

" We should be going home." Fleur whispered with a cracking voice. Gabrielle nodded wordlessly. Even though they didn't get everything on the list, that wasn't the best time to finish. Her sister clearly needed the comfort of their mother.

...

When the sisters arrived home, Fleur immediately locked herself in her room. Gabrielle on the other hand, went to find her mother, and explain what was going on with Fleur. She was worried about her sister, and she knew Fleur wasn't going to tell their mother, so she had to take matters into her own hands.

" Maman, Fleur was upset today. I don't know what 'appened. One minute, I ran into zome girl, and ze next, Fleur was just staring into 'er eyes. When ze girl disappeared, Fleur looked like she was going to cry!" Gabrielle explained quickly. Realization dawned on Apolline. She knelt before Gabrielle.

" Gabby, now I want you to give your sister some space. I will talk to 'er when she escapes ze confines of 'er room." Apolline said.

Gabrielle looked like she wanted to protest, but she said nothing. When the young girl turned on her heel and ran upstairs, Apolline sighed. She didn't know whether to feel relieved her daughter found her mate, or worried that things went unfinished between the two. She ran a shaky hand through her blonde shoulder-length locks.

" I must fix zis." She whispered to herself. With that, she set out on her new self appointed task.

...

Fleur could remember the first cut. The way she found solace in a blade. She was ashamed of herself afterwards, but during, she felt the loss she felt lessen. Fleur was sixteen at the time.

" Fleur! What is taking so long?" Apolline shouted from the other side of the bathroom door.

Fleur was so startled that she dropped the blade. It fell into the water in the sink that was swirling a light shade of pink. The pounding on the door increased, as did her heart rate. She grabbed a hand towel, and applied pressure to the cut on her stomach. Since she was too young to perform magic outside of school, she had to reside to hiding her nasty habit.

" Just a minute, mère!" Fleur shouted at the door. She heard a muffled quip, and the knocking on the door decreased.

" What are you doing in zere?" Apolline asked. Fleur hadn't been the same since returning home with her sister a year ago, and she was fearing the worst.

" Washing my 'ands. Just a moment!" Fleur responded. She inwardly congratulated herself for not speaking with a shaky voice.

" Come into ze living room when you are done. We need to speak." With that, she left.

Fleur began to sob quietly. She wrapped gauges around her stomach until blood didn't seep through the white cloth. She slowly turned, and unlocked the door after she disposed of the evidence. After smoothing out her shirt, she tentatively walked downstairs. Oh how she despised the winter holiday at the moment.

" You wanted to speak wiz me?" Fleur asked as calmly as she was capable of.

" I wanted to talk to you one more time about zis Luna." Apolline started hesitantly. She hadn't the faintest clue where to begin. Fleur groaned.

" Again mozer, zere is nozing more to say. We met for a brief moment, she 'anded me magazine, and zen she was gone." Fleur recounted sadly. Apolline sighed sadly for her grieving daughter.

" Would zat be ze same magazine zat you keep by your bedside?" Apolline asked even though she knew the answer. Fleur laughed bitterly.

" Pathetic aren't I?" Fleur snarled bitterly. She despised herself. No. She despised who she was born to be. Part veela.

" Far from it, Fleur! You are in love. Zat doesn't make you pathetic. I don't want to 'ear you talk about yourself in zat manner ever again." Apolline said sternly. Fleur nodded mutely.

" Is zere anyzing you wish to tell me?" Apolline asked with mock calm. Fleur's eyes widened significantly. She began to stutter.

" Wh-what are you talking abo-about?" Fleur's calm mask slipped quickly. Her mother knew.

" I love you, Fleur. You are a massive part of my life, and what you are doing is paining me as much as you. Please. I will get you 'elp. We will find your mate. I promise." Apolline swore. For the first time in a long while, Fleur's smile wasn't as forced.


	2. Chapter 2: Second Glance

**All rights are reserved for the genius J.K. Rowling. **

Fleur inhaled deeply, and exhaled sharply. She had a tight grip on her wand. She was too preoccupied with staring out the window to focus on the excited chatter of her fellow Beauxbatons classmates. Fleur narrowed her eyes as she could faintly see the castle of Hogwarts. She glanced at the other women in the carriage.

Every single one of the obnoxious giggles that erupted from the other girls buzzed in Fleur's ears. She held back a scowl at the girlish behavior that annoyed her so well. The blonde tightened her grip on her bag. She was determined to be chosen for the Triwizard Tournment if it was the last thing she would do. If she was chosen, maybe it _would_ be the last thing she did. Fleur closed her eyes, and bit back another sigh.

" Ladies. We will be landing in 'ogwarts in a moment." Madam Maxine shouted over the girls.

Her classmates quieted down, much to Fleur's relief. She leaned her head against the window, and glanced out at the school grounds. There were students that littered the schoolyard to see the Beauxbaton's arrival. Fleur began to fiddle with her hat on her head. She tightened her loose ponytail, and smoothed out her clear blue uniform.

" I want all of you to be ready, and line up when we get land." Madam Maxine instructed. Fleur swallowed down her nerves, and placed on her cold mask.

Over the years, she learned to keep people at a distance. Fleur refused to let her harsh demeanor slip in front of her peers, so she wasn't the most likable at Beauxbatons. The closer the carriage was coming to the school grounds, the tighter her grip on her bag became. With her back straightened, and her face neutral, Fleur was ready to exit the carriage. When the carriage landed, Fleur quickly jumped from her seat, and lined up at the door. She could hear muttering from the opposite side of the door.

" 'ere we are. After me." The giant woman announced.

Madam Maxine swung open the door, and the carriage bounced as she stepped out of it. Fleur paused as she waited for the signal to follow her Headmaster. She listened closely to the conversation between her Headmaster, and the famous Dumbledore.

" Madam Maxine. We were awaiting your arrival." Dumbledore greeted warmly with a twinkle in his eye.

" Ah, Dumblydore. We are exzited for ze tournament." Madam Maxine replied with a thick accent.

" Yes, yes. Why don't we head inside and out of this weather." Dumbledore suggested.

" Oui. Girls!" Madame Maxine shouted.

Fleur held her breath, and opened the door. As soon as she stepped foot on the Hogwarts grounds, a silence blanketed the students. Most of them were under the thrall, and some were looking at her with jealousy. No matter, she just brushed it off. She was about to follow her Headmaster, but her eyes caught a sea of blonde locks. Fleur froze noticeably, and a few of her fellow classmates bumped into her with a scowl.

Fleur didn't notice them. Her focus was fully on the third year Luna Lovegood. Fleur was torn between running towards her mate, and hating herself for falling for such a young child. She shuddered, but it had nothing to do with the cold weather. Blue eyes locked with another pair of blue eyes, and despite what her mother said, it felt as though time stopped. What little air was left in her lungs before, was knocked out of her the moment their eyes met.

" Fleur! What are you doing?" Madam Maxine shouted at her.

Fleur shook her head, and forced herself to walk forward. Luna still had her gaze on Fleur curiously. She remembered the seventeen year old clearly. She was reading her father's passage in _The Quibbler_ on how to locate nargles. That was two years before. Luna was eleven at the time, and didn't understand the way her heart fluttered in her chest. Luna watched as Fleur walked stiffly inside the doors of Hogwarts. Her attention was captured by movement in the lake.

Fleur followed Madam Maxine obediently into the halls of Hogwarts. She kept her head bowed so she didn't have to look her Headmaster in the eye. If she did, Madam Maxine would without a doubt tell that Fleur was in love, and boy did she fall hard. Madam Maxine lagged behind her students, and fell into step with Fleur. Fleur kept quiet. After a few tense minutes of awkward silence, the tall woman spoke quietly.

" I saw ze way you looked at zat child. 'ow long 'ave you loved 'er?" The Headmaster asked knowingly. Fleur's eyes widened in a panic. If her Headmaster noticed, who else did? Madam Maxine soothed her.

" Relax, la bien-aimé. I am pozotive I am ze only one 'oo noticed." The taller woman assured. Fleur calmed slightly.

" 'ow did you you know I met 'er before?" Fleur asked hesitantly. Madam Maxine smiled warmly.

" Zere was recognition in your eyes, mon cher. Love was in your eyes as well. Now, would you kindly inform ze 'eadmaster on 'oo zat was?" She asked. Fleur blanched slightly.

" Zat leetle girl is my mate. I met 'er deux years ago. I knew I loved 'er all zis time. I zought I would never see 'er again." Fleur whispered shakily. Madam Maxine gave her a sad smile, and wrapped an arm around the girl.

" Do not worry my woderful student. I will 'elp you, 'ow zey say, "Get your girl". What is 'er name petit?" Madam Maxine asked curiously.

" Luna. Luna Lovegood." Fleur answered.

...

" As you all may or may not know, Hogwarts is hosting this annuals Triwizard Tournament. There will be one champion for each school. One from Hogwarts, one from Beauxbatons, and one from Durmstrang. Those who wish to submit their names for a chance to become a champion will write their name on a piece of parchment, and they will place the parchment into the Goblet of Fire. Please take into account that you must be of seventeen years of age to enter." Dumbledore informed. Several shouts of protest were heard.

" That's rubbish!" Fleur heard two shaggy redhead twins shout.

" Enough!" Dumbledore shouted over the students. The dining hall went silent.

" Now, anyone seventeen is free to enter their name into the goblet after the feast." Dumbledore stated.

Fleur didn't listen to the rest of his speech. Instead, she opted to blatantly stare at the airy blonde that occupied her mind since she was fifteen. She watched as Luna stared off into space. Her eyes were glazed over with a far off look. Fleur found herself wanting to be the one who was on the thirteen year old's mind. She scowled as she thought that. _She is a child. You are seventeen! You are disgusting._ Fleur thought to herself with a scowl. When she glanced back at Luna, she found a pair of eyes looking at her. She gave her a small smile, and she received a small shy one in return. _So she remembers me too_?" Fleur thought with a triumphant smile. Luna caught it, and narrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

" Let the feast begin." After Dumbledore said those four words, food began to appear out of thin air.

Fleur filled her plate, but picked at it. Her appetite was failing her at that moment. She was lost in her thoughts, and food didn't seem important enough. The only thing that mattered was Luna. To the French witch, love came first, and everything else came second. She twisted her fork with one hand, and placed her chin in her other palm. A clear of someone's throat shook Fleur from her musings. She turned, and caught sight of the bubbly blonde.

" Excuse me, but we've met before right?" Luna asked with an airy voice. Fleur nodded quickly.

" Oui. A couple of years ago." Fleur answered as if she didn't care. Lie.

" Have you found those pesky nargles?" Luna whispered. Fleur shivered as Luna's breath hit her face as she leaned forward slightly.

" Oui. I 'ave. They get on my nerves." Fleur lied. She read the magazine from cover to cover repeatedly since she received it from Luna.

" Oh I agree. Do you mind if I sit here for a second?" The younger blonde asked. Fleur made room for the girl, and Luna sat closer than Fleur expected.

" 'ave you seen any, um nargles since we met?" Fleur asked conversationally. Luna bounced in her seat.

" Why yes I have. Those bloody creatures are everywhere! I must learn how to get rid of them." Luna said.

" If your fazer writes about zem, why doesn't 'e tell you 'ow to get rid of zem?" Fleur asked curiously. She hated anything that bothered her Luna. _Her Luna?!_

" He says that figuring it out on my own will be a fun experience." Luna said proudly. She obviously loved her father. Fleur smiled.

" Well, I could 'elp you fight off zose pesky things." Fleur offered quickly. Desperately.

" That would be lovely. I must head off now. I'll see you around!" With that, Luna was gone again.

Fleur bit back her protest. She didn't want to part from her mate. Alas, it seemed as though she had to wait a little longer. Fleur survived the two year separation. (Barely) She could survive a few days. (Hopefully) She glanced down the Ravenclaw table, and Luna was seated with an Indian girl. Jealousy ran through her veins, but she forced it down. She and Luna weren't together. They barely knew each other. _Yet you love her with all your heart._ Her mind screamed. Fleur sighed, and looked back at her untouched meal. She pushed the plate away, and walked to the Beauxbatons' carriage. Unbeknownst to her, Luna was watching her as she went.

...

After the Beauxbatons girls arrived back at the carriage informing that the feast was over, Fleur tore a piece of parchment, grabbed her quill, and scribbled her name upon it. She stalked across the schoolyard, and entered the castle. When she stepped foot into the Great Hall, everyone who was gathered around a pair of twins who had white hair and beards backed away to watch Fleur. Feeling self-conscious, Fleur shifted from foot to foot. She raised her head high, and walked with purpose. She stepped through an age line, and paused.

She scanned the room, and her eyes landed on Luna. The look in Luna's eye caused Fleur to scratch at her stomach slightly. The movement was not lost on Luna. Fleur forced her eyes to the goblet, and with one last breath, she threw her name in the fire. The fire turned red for a split second, and switched to its original blue. There were claps around her. She glanced at who it belonged to, and was slightly shocked to see Luna clapping. She smiled slightly at the French part veela, and exited the Great Hall. Fleur was about to exit as well, but someone entering paused her.

She came face to face with the Bulgarian Quidditch star, Viktor Krum. He nodded curtly, and Fleur did the same. She turned and watched as Viktor entered his name in the goblet. His eyes met with one bushy haired girl who had a book in her lap. She gave a shy smile, and blushed slightly. Fleur rolled her eyes. Lovesick women. _Isn't that what you are?_ Fleur scowled in her mind. She quickly exited the Hall, and ran to the carriage. There was a spell casted on the inside so it appeared to be small on the outside, but on the inside, there was enough rooms for everyone.

Once inside the confines of her room, she slid down to the floor like she did when she was eight, and learned about her heritage. She put her head in her hands, and let the stress of the last two years wash away. An idea came to her, and she got off the floor. She walked to the desk, and sat in the chair. She found a fresh piece of parchment, and began to write a letter to her family.

_Dear mère,_

_I have found her! I have found Luna. She is a witch at Hogwarts. When I saw her again, my mind went blank, and I was in a state of shock. It gets better. Luna remembered me! She actually approached me first. She sparked a conversation with me. I admit, it was about nargles, but it was a conversation nonetheless. All the stress from before seemed to just fade, and we are not even together. Yet. I am determined to change that. Even though I find myself a pedophile. Does that make me odd? I do not know. Anyway, the last time I checked on Gabrielle, (Which was yesterday) she was fine, and adjusting well in her second year. I am fine also. How are you and papa?_

_ With love,_

_ Fleur_

When she finished her letter, she began to make her way back through the building, and to the Owlery. She walked up the stairs, and was thoroughly exhausted by the time she picked out a random owl. She didn't care if he belonged to someone else. She had to send the letter urgently. After she tied the note to the owl's leg, she stood still for a moment until the owl was out of sight. She turned around, and headed back to the carriage. When she was back in her room, she changed into her silk pajamas, and lied on her bed. She wasn't able to fall asleep immediately.

She was happy about finding Luna, nervous about the tournament, and excited to hear what her parents had to say. All in all, she was on an emotional high. She tossed and turned, but her thoughts were solely on the day's events. She was torn between laughing, smiling, or crying. No. She wouldn't cry. Only weak people cry.

After forcing herself to slow her train of though down, she closed her eyes, and began to breathe in and out repeatedly. Eventually, she fell asleep with a smile on her face.


	3. Chapter 3: The Chosen Champions

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except Madeline. She's mine to play with.**

The sunlight peered through the window of Fleur's room of the carriage. The blonde's eyes fluttered slightly before opening. Blue eyes quickly narrowed at the blinding light, and Fleur grasped her wand from its place on her bedside table. She carelessly waved her wand as she spoke the spell quietly. In a matter of seconds, the drapes were closed, and the light was blocked somewhat. It didn't help that the drapes were thin. Sleep was almost able to envelope the French witch once more. Almost.

" Réveillez-vous mesdames. Time to get up." Madam Maxine shouted as she stalked down the hallway.

Fleur sighed, and sat up in her bed. She ran a hand through her messy hair. The part veela scowled as her fingers caught on a few tangles. She picked up her wand that she placed before her on her bed. She aimed it at a hairbrush on her assigned dresser.

" _Accio hairbrush_." Fleur whispered.

The brush flew towards her, and her fast reflexes prevented her from getting hit in the face. When the handle was firmly in her hand, she began taming her insufferable bedhead. When she was satisfied with her hair, the witch pulled back the covers, and stretched out her back. When she heard a sickening, yet pleasant felt pop, Fleur set about gathering her outfit for the day. She finished zipping up her sky-blue Beauxbatons dress uniform when a tentative knock on her door paused her from putting on her hat.

" Come in." Fleur called. Madam Maxine entered with a half smile.

" Bon Matin, Fleur. Did you 'ave a restful night?" The Headmaster asked. Fleur narrowed her eyes. Her headmistress was never one to beat around the bush.

" I did, but what are you really wanting to ask?" Fleur asked suspiciously. The tall woman chuckled at the younger witch's cleverness.

" Fleur, you are like a daughter to me. I just wanted to know 'ow your leetle chat with your Luna went. I saw you two togezer." Madam Maxine smirked. Fleur blushed.

" She is not "My Luna". We only 'ad one conversation." Fleur murmured. Madam Maxine snorted.

"Why, my cher, all a veela needs is a converzation non?" Madam Maxine knew little about Veela, but when it came to the fact that half of her students were full Veela or part, she knew more than some.

" Luna is different. She sees me for 'oo I am, and not for ze beautiful exterior." Fleur informed proudly. Madam Maxine chuckled.

" Plese, no need to be modest ma chérie." She said sarcastically. Fleur huffed.

" As I was saying," Fleur said pointedly. " Luna sees my inner beauty. She is immune to ze z'rall. Everyone else becomes a bumbling idiot around me, but Luna-" Fleur was cut off by one of her classmates walking by.

" Becomes a bumbling idiot around anyone." Madeline said nonchalantly. Fleur was enraged by the insult.

" You shut your damn mouth!" Fleur shouted with her wand at the ready. Madeline raised her hands in a truce, but didn't look sorry at all.

" I am zorry. To show my apologies, I prezent to you," She outstretched her arm with her palm facing up. " A nargle." That was the final straw.

Fleur calmly threw her wand onto the bed. Madeline smirked triumphantly. Fleur smiled with a false sense of sweetness coating it. The blonde witch walked a step towards the redhead. Madeline raised an eyebrow.

" Zat isn't a nargle. Zis is." With that said, Fleur reeled back her fist, and punched Madeline square in the jaw.

Madeline shrieked as pain shot through her jaw. Fleur wouldn't admit it, but the punch hurt. A lot, but the triumph she felt outweighed the pain. Several of the other girls who were in the carriage ran to Madeline's aid. The redhead pulled back her hand, and drew blood along with it. Several people gasped, then glared at Fleur. Fleur just gave them a cheeky grin, and raised her fist in victory. They never liked her before, and their dislike wouldn't drag her down in that moment.

" Les filles! I want you all to 'ead to ze classroom I 'ave prepared. All except Madeline and Fleur. Madeline, 'ead to ze infirmary. Fleur, you stay 'ere for a second." Their headmistress ordered. When everyone was gone with the exception of Madam Maxine and Fleur, the older of the two turned to face the veela with a smile.

" Zat was quite impressive. 'ow is your 'and?" She asked with concern. Fleur raised an eyebrow incredulously.

" I punched a girl in ze face, and you ask if my 'and 'urts? You...Are ze best headmistress ever." Fleur said with a grin. Madam Maxine laughed.

" I am unbiased, but I 'ave to say, she started it when she insulted your mate." The headmistress defended her actions. Fleur merely smirked.

" Now, go to ze infirmary, and get your 'and bandaged." Madam Maxine ordered. Fleur mock saluted, but winced when her injured hand touched her forehead.

" As you wish." Fleur panted in pain.

Madam Maxine patted the blonde witch on her head, and left without another word. Fleur sighed at her bruised knuckles. _I haven't even been chosen for the tournament, and I'm already getting myself hurt._ Fleur thought with a scowl.

...

" Alright, Ms. Delacour. You are free to go. No more fist fights, understood?" Madam Pomfrey asked rhetorically. Fleur nodded meekly anyway.

" What were you thinking anyway? Never mind. I know you'll just blame Ms. Antonella for this bloody mess." Fleur wasn't sure if Madam Pomfrey's English words were rearing their heads, or if she was referring the mess was literally bloody. Either way, they fit the situation.

" Just so you know, it was 'er fault." Fleur muttered absentmindedly.

" This is the first day of classes, and I've already had a handful of students. This year doesn't sit well with me." Madam Pomfrey muttered to herself, but Fleur heard.

" Madam Pomfrey, I found a blast ended skrewt, and- Oh, hello Fleur!" Fleur's heart rate accelerated significantly.

" 'ello, Luna. Why are you 'ere?" Fleur realized how rude that sounded, and quickly backtracked. " I mean, what's wrong?" She sighed in relief how Luna's hurt look switched entirely from one of sadness, to one of remembrance.

" I forgot! I was walking to Care of Magical Creatures, and I happened to come across a blast ended skrewt. I attempted to befriend the creature, but it burned me! Why would it do that?" The utter betrayal on Luna's face broke Fleur's heart.

" I'll go fetch the dittany." Madam Pomfrey sighed.

Luna, without permission, (Not that Fleur would deny her anything) sat herself on the end of Fleur's bed. Fleur quickly, without thinking, grasped Luna's uninjured hand. A jolt ran through Fleur's arm, and to her heart. She swallowed down the lump that formed in her throat. The French witch licked her lips in an attempt to moisten them. She felt a squeeze on her hand. Too bad that in her rush to grasp Luna's hand, she did so with her bruised one. Fleur hissed slightly, and Luna extracted her hand quickly.

" What happened to your hand?" Luna asked. Was that concern Fleur heard?

" Nargles were involved." Fleur rushed. It was partly true. It wasn't a full out lie.

" Nargles?" Luna asked in confusion. Fleur nodded weakly. Before Luna could question her any further, Madam Pomfrey re-entered the room, and set to work on Luna's hand.

" You know, Ms. Delacour, I am perfectly capable of healing Ms. Lovegood here without you missing your studies." The healer teased, yet there was a not-so-subtle hint to leave.

Fleur sighed at the unwanted parting. She gave Luna a warm smile, and Luna gave her a pained one. It looked more of a grimace. Fleur raised herself from the bed, but before she could move too far from the bed, Luna whimpered at the stinging sensation, and grasped Fleur's hand. Butterflies were swarming the older blonde's stomach. Fleur squeezed the younger girl's hand, and gave a pleading look towards the healer. Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes.

" Fine. You can stay, _but_that is just for another minute. Not a second more." The middle aged woman said.

" And not a second less." Fleur sing-songed. Luna giggled, and Fleur felt accomplished.

A minute could mean a lot of things. It could mean an actual. It could mean less than a minute. In the two blonde witches case, it could mean more. After Luna's hand was bandaged, the two women talked about anything they thought of. (Luna talked about issues in her newest copy of _The Quibbler__, and Fleur nodded along._) By the time Madam Pomfrey shooed them away, the first class was nearly over. Fleur offered to walk Luna to her Transfiguration class, but Luna declined with an airy voice. Luna was busy gazing into space, so she missed the dejected look that crossed the French witch's face.

" I'll see you at dinner, maybe." Fleur tried to sound nonchalant. She was failing miserably. Luna beamed.

" Yeah! You can sit with me at the Ravenclaw table!" Luna was practically bouncing in place. Fleur hid her smile.

" Sure, I'll see you at ze Ravenclaw table." Fleur confirmed. Luna surprised the French witch by hugging her tightly.

" You're the best best friend ever!" Luna smiled brightly.

Fleur's smile was strained. The words best friend were stuck on repeat inside her head. _Best friend. Best friend. Best friend._ That's all you are to her. When Luna's smile started to slip, Fleur forced herself to say those words back.

" You're my best friend, too." The words sounded strange to her ears.

Luna beamed, gave her one last hug, and ran to her Transfiguration class. Fleur forced the bad thoughts away. _You just met her. She isn't a veela. You'll just have to find a way to get her to fall in love with you._ With her jaw set, and a plan in motion, Fleur quickly walked across the school grounds to the Beauxbatons carriage. _I will find a way to get her to fall for me. I just need to figure out how._

...

At dinner, Fleur hesitantly walked into the doorway of the Great Hall. She looked around at the sea of students. There were varieties of English, French, and Bulgarians. Fleur glanced around the students that bore the infamous blue and silver. After a few glances, and failing to find her bubbly blonde, Fleur sighed. She was about to turn around and just sit in a random spot, but someone grasped her wrist, and quickly pulled her in one direction. Fleur couldn't help the small yelp that came out of her mouth. A giggle soothed her heart rate, and she relaxed quickly.

" Luna, you could 'ave just led me to ze table." Fleur said with a smile as the two ignored the stares they were receiving.

" Where's the fun in that? You need to live a little." Luna informed seriously. Fleur smiled.

" I zink you are right." An idea came to Fleur's mind.

" I am? I mean, I am." Luna beamed. The older witch laughed at Luna's antics.

" You are zilly." Fleur laughed. Luna smiled sadly.

" I get that a lot." Luna looked down as she sat at her table.

Fleur felt guilty at that moment. She walked over towards the table. Apparently, someone sat in her reserved seat. If it was even reserved for her anymore. The boy looked about a year younger than herself. She cleared her throat, and poked the boy's shoulder. Whoever was seated turned around with an irritated expression. It was quickly replaced by lust. Fleur forced back the shudder, and gave the boy a forced smile.

" Could you please scoot down a seat?" The boy looked pleased at the thought of sitting by Fleur, so he quickly pushed his way down.

" Thank you. Luna, would you mind taking my seat?" Fleur asked. Luna seemed to understand perfectly.

" Sure." She answered in her trademark airy tone.

The young witch moved down a seat, much to the hormonal boy's chagrin. Fleur gave her a thankful smile. Once she was seated, she covered Luna's hand with hers. She was careful about the burns, and waited for her to look her in the eye. Fleur smiled at her, which prompted Luna to smile.

" I did not mean what I said like zat. You are merely unique, and you wouldn't be you if you weren't, and guess what. I lo-like you just ze way you are." If Luna caught her slip of the tongue, she ignored it.

" You really think so?" She asked in a small voice. A vulnerable voice.

" I 'ave never been so sure in my life." Luna smiled at the omission.

" Um, whose this, Luna?" Some boy asked in confusion. Fleur refrained herself from punching the boy in the face.

" Michael!" Luna squealed happily. Fleur furrowed her eyebrows.

" Luna, 'oo is zis?" Fleur asked.

" This is Michael Corner. My boyfriend." Fleur's world completely stopped.

She glanced around, but everything seemed to have stood still. Not only did the world seize to exist, but her heart shattered in her chest. She wasn't sure about everything that was happening around her, but she knew she had to get out. She had to break in her own company. Fleur was so used to suffering in silence, that her first instinct was to flee from the hurt, and cut it out. All she needed to do was escape the prying eyes of those around her.

" Fleur? Are you alright?" A concerned voice asked.

Fleur could barely register it. Was that Luna? Maybe. Who was that boy with her? How could Fleur forget? It was the main obstacle in her pursuit of happiness...But Fleur wouldn't say that. No. She would curse him in the corners of her mind. Corners? Corner. Michael Corner. Oh god. That was his name. Every time she would see a corner, she'd think of how her mate was with someone else. Every time she would think of Ravenclaw; Her happiness was gone. Every time she would think of Hogwarts, gone. Every time she would breathe, gone. A hand shook her from her reverie.

" Hey, are you alright?" _Michael Corner_ asked. Fleur physically shook the thought from her head.

" Oui. I am fine. I'm just going to go back to ze carriage." Fleur stated to no one in particular. Luna grasped her hand.

" What about dinner?" Luna asked.

" I am not 'ungry." Fleur said honestly. She lost her appetite.

" What about seeing who the champions are?" Luna was concerned about her new friend.

" I'll be back by zen." Fleur clipped out.

With that, Fleur spun on her heel, and while ignoring the callings of her name, left the Great Hall. When she made it within the privacy of her room, she broke. Loud sobs could be heard from her room, but either the girls were already at dinner, or they flat out didn't care. Fleur was led to believe the latter. She pulled her knees to her chest like a little girl. At that moment, she felt like a lost one. The French witch attempted to muffle her sobs, but it was futile.

The scars on her stomach began to itch. She self-consciously glanced down. She had long mastered the spell to cover it up. No one knew her methods of release, and no one had to. Why should they? People would just make her quit, and she didn't want that. Her mother thought she gave cutting up the previous year, but the middle aged witch was oblivious. Oblivious? Maybe, maybe not. Perhaps denial was the correct word to use.

When the tears refused to slow, Fleur got angry with herself. She was crying like a baby. A baby who hated herself. Why did she have to be part veela? Why did she have to fall in love with a _child_? She felt sick to her stomach. Fleur felt punished. What for? She didn't know. She was in the dark about that. What had she done so horrible? Was it being born? If she were never born, her veela blood wouldn't be pumping through her veins. For who? Luna. For a child. For a child who was straight. For a child who was straight, and had a _boyfriend_. That word crippled Fleur with depression.

The French witch hoisted herself off the cold floor. The sobs didn't stop though. If anything, it caused her tears stream down her face quicker. Movement reminded her that she was alive. Alive, and had a chance at becoming the Beauxbatons' champion. Then, she would have to stay in England, and face Luna and her boyfriend. Despite her tears, she could plainly see how pathetic she looked in the mirror.

Her door opened, effectively shocking the crap out of her. Fleur let out a startled shout, and turned to see a sympathetic look on her headmistress's face. Fleur turned away from it as if the look burned her. In a way, it did. It burned her pride, and it burned her sanity. Madam Maxine quickly crossed the room, and took Fleur into her arms. At first, Fleur objected, but after realizing it was useless, she fell into the embrace. Madam Maxine whispered reassuring words in Fleur's ear.

" Voulez-vous s'il vous plaît laissez-moi seul?" Fleur asked. Madam Maxine shook her head.

" Non. I will not leave you alone. What 'appened, bonbon?" The headmistress asked. Fleur began crying again.

" She 'as a boyfriend. My mate 'as a boyfriend." Fleur cried. Madam Maxine sighed.

" If she is your mate, then it will not last." Madam Maxine stated nonchalantly.

" But-" Fleur was about to protest, but was cut off.

" It will 'appen. Give it time." The headmistress said.

" 'ow do you know?" Fleur asked miserably.

" Well, when you ran out as fast as you could, you failed to notice 'ow Luna lost all interest in zat _boy_." Madam Maxine sneered. Fleur gave a watery chuckle.

" Really?" Fleur questioned hopefully.

" I am pozitive. She appeared to 'ave ignored 'im completely. Zis Luna of yours was concerned for you." Madam Maxine informed.

" 'ow am I supposed to court a straight zirteen year old girl?" The words sounded disgusting to Fleur. It fueled her self-hatred.

" Premier, you should not rush it. Deuxième, become ze girl's friend. It zeems to me zat you 'ad no trouble wiz zat." Madam Maxine smirked.

Fleur scowled as she rubbed at her cheeks with her hands in an attempt to lessen her blush. She blushed harder at her headmistress's laughter. Fleur smiled despite the blush that was still on her face. Madam Maxine's words were still ringing in her ears. Perhaps Luna believed she was infatuated with that Michael Corner, but Fleur was determined to win Luna over. She turned to her headmistress, and gave her a rare hug that surprised the both of them.

" Zank you. I lost myself for ze moment, but you 'elped me back. I will not give up." Fleur stated with no room for retractions. The half giant smiled proudly.

" Venir. Ze champions are about to be named." Madam Maxine led Fleur to the Great Hall.

When they arrived, Fleur still needed time to adjust to the thought of her soul mate with someone else. For that reason, she sat somewhere that wasn't near Luna. Hell, she'd sit next to the hormonal boy that sat next to Luna if he wan't by her mate. Fleur thought that back, and shuddered. No. She wouldn't sit by the boy. Since she sat so far away, she missed the dejected expression on Luna's face, and the suspicious glare of one Michael Corner. Dumbledore stood at the pedestal in the front, and the chatter seized instantaneous.

" The time has come. Tonight, three champions will be chosen. When the fire emits a parchment containing a student's name, that student will be chosen to represent their school. Once you are chosen, there is no going back." Dumbledore informed.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts raised an arm, and swept it across the room. The fires that lit the room were blown out, and the only source of light was the blue fire of the Goblet of Fire that was dragged into the Hall since the last time Fleur was there half an hour before. Dumbledore walked in stride to the goblet. The fire turned a beautiful shade of red. In that case, one might call it a _deadly _shade of red. A piece of parchment shot out of the goblet, into the air, and into the waiting hand of Albus Dumbledore.

" The champion of Beauxbatons is...Fleur Delacour." Dumbledore read.

There was cheering in the background of Fleur's mind. She was almost certain that out off all the people cheering, it was absolutely none of the French witches. Fleur walked forward to the front of the Great Hall numbly. Her movements were on autopilot. In her numb daze, she missed the horrified look on Luna's face. When she made it to the front, Dumbledore handed her the parchment with her name written on it, and patted her on the back. She was led to a room that she was informed was the Trophy Room. She paused to listen for the other winners.

" The chapion of Durmstrang...Viktor Krum." A loud applause was heard.

Fleur listened as she heard footsteps coming closer to the door. She moved out of the way to let Viktor through, and the two nodded to each other. Viktor follwed her league, and listened for the final champion.

" The final, and Hogwarts' champion is...Cedric Diggory." Cue another applause.

With the final champion named, Fleur walked farther into the room. She began to explore, and paid little to no mind to the opening and closing of the Trophy Room door. She heard the gruff greeting from Viktor, and soft, yet polite greeting from Cedric. She was busy staring into the fire, and when she heard another opening and closing of the door, she was expecting the teachers. When she turned around, she, along with every other champion was shocked to see none other than Harry Potter. What a start to the Triwizard Tournament.

**A review is appreciated. I wish it was mandatory. You decide if it is or not.**


	4. Chapter 4: Butterflies and Arguments

**Disclaimer: Go see from previous chapters. **

**A/N: Okay so the whole French accent thing is tough to remember to write, so from now on, I will not be writing the accent. **

Luna was called many things, but perceptive was definitely not one of them. The young blonde was actually quite observant when it came to certain things. For example, her father dove himself into _The Quibbler_ as a result of her mother's passing. Xenophiluis assured his daughter it was due to his passion of informing the Wizarding world of the unknown, but Luna was more clever than that. Little Luna Lovegood was more than meets the eye. If only people would take the time to realize that, than she wouldn't come across as harebrained.

So when she gazed into Fleur's eyes as she strode to the Trophy Room, she recognized the look of utter defeat. She was giving up. On what, Luna wasn't positive, but she was determined to help her new friend.

" Luna? What has your mind so occupied?" Micheal asked.

Luna turned slightly, and gazed at her boyfriend out of the corner of her eye. While it was true that she felt something close to love for the boy, (Well, as much as a thirteen year old knew about love) it wasn't love. She used to get butterflies in her stomach when Micheal held her hand, but when she grabbed Fleur's hand, she felt a spark. Confused as to what it meant, she brushed it off as a sign of a strong friendship.

" I am fine. I am just focused on the tournament." She replied in her airy tone. Micheal accepted the legit answer.

" As am I. Can you believe that Potter was chosen?" Luna tuned the rest of his rant out.

The witch sighed in resignation as she lied her chin in her palm. There was no use in fretting over Fleur being chosen as a Champion. What really had her mind running in circles like a dog after its tail, was the broken look in her friend's eyes. Fleur hid it quite well, but Luna saw the fleeting look of hurt when Luna announced who Micheal was. It confused Luna highly, but before she could question it, Fleur took off into the grounds of Hogwarts. As soon as she was gone, Luna caught sight of the giant Headmistress of Beauxbatons.

Luna sighed sadly at the memory of Fleur keeping her distance when she returned. It was as if she didn't want to be around the young witch when her boyfriend was in close range. Was Fleur going to make her choose between the older witch and Micheal? If so, would she choose Micheal? Or would she choose Fleur? The hesitancy of picking her boyfriend over basically a stranger startled Luna greatly. The young witch calmed considerably when she told herself that Fleur was more than a stranger.

If she were to tell anyone that, they would mark the comment down as an everyday Luna sentence. They would ignore it. She knew that no matter what, Fleur was going to be a part of her life. Whether it be in passing each other in the halls, or sitting close in the yards. Luna shook her head. She would _not_ have Fleur be a passerby. She was determined to learn more about Fleur, and she would do anything for Fleur to open up.

" Come on, Luna. It's time to head to the common room." Micheal pulled Luna out of her trance. She smiled at the boy, and kissed him on the cheek.

" Okay, Mikey." Luna said. Micheal scowled slightly at the snickers from his fellow housemates.

" Luna. We agreed that you would only say that in private." Micheal whispered shyly.

Luna giggled, grasped his hand, and pulled him along. Luna frowned slightly at the lack of butterflies in her stomach. She was sure that butterflies were supposed to appear when you felt certain emotions. She turned to Micheal, and opened her mouth to question him.

" Micheal, do you get butterflies in your stomach?" She asked curiously. Micheal puffed out his chest.

" I am a man, Luna. We do not get butterflies." Micheal reasoned. Luna looked at him curiously, and slightly offended.

" I do not feel butterflies. Does that mean you're calling me a man?" Luna asked seriously. Micheal began to stumble over his words.

" N-no. What I m-meant was that...What I'm saying is...What do you mean you don't feel butterflies?" Micheal asked. The blonde witch raised an eyebrow.

" There aren't butterflies flapping around in my stomach. Is there something wrong with me?" Luna becoming frantic.

" No. There is nothing wrong. You are your usual unique self." Micheal explained with a crooked grin, and kissed her on the cheek.

The word unique bounced through Luna's head at a constant rate. Those were the same words that Fleur spoke about her. Butterflies erupted in her stomach, and Luna was startled. She glanced down at her and Micheal's joined hands, and presumed it was due to that. It was. Wasn't it?

" Is something wrong, love?" The endearment that he usually added at the end only seized the butterflies. It only caused her stomach to churn in a different sensation. An uncomfortable one.

" The butterflies were back." Micheal beamed, and pulled Luna through the entrance to the Ravenclaw tower.

" Well, I think girls are supposed to have butterflies in their stomachs. My mum says it means you like someone more than a friend." Micheal said with a smile.

Luna's eyes widened. When she thought of Fleur, the butterflies increased tenfold, but with her boyfriend, movement inside her seized to exist. The young witch shook her head to clear the confusing and frustrating thoughts from her mind. With a forced kiss for her boyfriend, and a held back grimace, she ascended the stairs to her shared chambers to rid her mind by falling asleep.

...

Fleur sighed as she witnessed the endless arguments from Madam Maxime, and Karkaroff. Viktor stood to the side with a stony expression. Cedric Diggory shifted from foot to foot. A clear sign of his awkwardness. Harry stood by Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall's sides with an uncomfortable expression on his face. Fleur simply stood to the side without a care. The French witch honestly couldn't care less about an under aged boy, and whether or not he entered at will.

" Vat iz ze meaning of ziz?" Karkaroff shouted furiously. Dumbledore kept a calm expression on his face.

" I do not know how this came to be, but I believe that Mr. Potter is telling the truth when he explains that he did not enter his name in the goblet." Dumbledore stated calmly.

" But of course 'e is lying." Madam Maxime explained heatedly. Dumbledore raised a hand to quiet the room.

" We will further examine how this turn of events came to be, but for the moment, Mr. Crouch will decide the rules for this...Unique change of rules." Dumbledore said while looking at the middle aged for his answer. " Mr. Crouch?" He asked.

" I am afraid that what is done is done. Mr. Potter is to compete in the tournament." The man informed.

Everyone turned to look at Harry with different expressions on their faces. Viktor looked angry along with his Headmaster; Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Mr. Crouch looked slightly unnerved; Snape, and Madam Maxime looked deep in thought, and Cedric, along with Fleur looked indifferent.

" Surely there is something we could do?" Professor McGonagall asked worriedly.

" If I could speak freely, maybe we should, for the time being, allow Mr. Potter to still compete as Barty said." Snape suggested.

" Mr. Potter is a boy. Not a piece of meat!" McGonagall exclaimed.

" I agree...With Severus." Dumbledore announced.

Fleur tuned the rest out as she thought about what she gotten herself into. People have died during the Triwizard Tournament. It was very well a possibility that Fleur could become one of those statistics. Did she care? She couldn't say. The half-Veela didn't know the answer. A light tap on her shoulder pulled her from her reverie. She turned to see Harry, and no one else. Fleur raised an eyebrow questioningly.

" I didn't enter my name into the cup." He stated.

" Why would you think I care?" She sneered.

" Everyone else seems to think so. I just wanted you to know that I was set up." He said while walking away.

Fleur mauled what he said over. Did she believe him? He could have a motive. To gather fame, to collect the fortune. It was clear that there were perks for entering, but from what she saw, he was distressed over the fact his name was called. She knew then and there.

" I believe you, you know. No one enters without reason, and I can't really believe any of the ones I've come up with. I think your words are true." Fleur called after him. Harry turned.

" What's your motive for entering the tournament if you don't mind me asking?" The fourteen year old boy asked.

" To prove something?" Fleur asked herself. Harry cocked his head to the side.

" To who?" He asked curiously.

" Myself." Fleur answered without a pause. Harry narrowed his eyes, but eventually nodded.

" Whoever believes that you entered your name into the goblet, they just need time to face the facts. There's nothing more you could really gain. Like it or not, you have the fame, and you already have the fortune. There's nothing else to win, and so much to lose." Fleur said. Harry thought about her words, and smiled.

" It's nice to know someone believes me." The boy said with relief, Fleur shook her head.

" A few of the Professors here find your words to be truthful. Listen," Fleur hesitated, but Harry urged her to continue. " Us Champions should stick together. Apparently what we are facing is dangerous enough, so we should set aside our egos, and work together. I am only speaking for myself. Not the others." Fleur suggested.

" Isn't that against the rules?" Harry asked. Fleur snorted.

" What is this? Harry Potter concerned over the rules? I am certain that our lives are more important than the rules. Are they not?" Fleur asked. Harry chuckled.

" You really want to work together?" He asked.

" Oui. Are you in?" Fleur challenged. Harry nodded vigorously.

" Yes." Was all he said.

" Okay then. I'll be sure to hear from you soon, Monsieur Potter." Fleur said as she exited the Trophy Room.

" It's Harry." She heard faintly from behind her. She merely chuckled. What a tournament it will be.

...

The next morning, Fleur stretched her muscles, and let a groan slip from her throat. She sat up in her bed, and yawned after she saw it was six in the morning. A growl escaped her lips as sleep evaded her. She had time before her classes, and she had nothing to do.

After deciding that lying in her bed and having her thoughts run free was an undesirable time killer, she arose from her warm mattress, and dressed in her casual attire. She didn't necessarily have to dress in her uniform until the clock struck eight.

Fleur decided on a casual t-shirt and jeans. Once she absentmindedly brushed her hair free of any tangles, she quietly exited the carriage. She honestly despised the thought of running into Madeline at the moment. She was conflicted as it was, and the insults from her classmate was sure to drive her over the edge.

When she stepped foot onto the ground, she regretted not wearing a jacket. Deciding to push through the frostbite, she stepped forward. Her destination was unknown, but she knew it wasn't in the carriage. As she suffered through the wind, she began to whistle a random tune. Movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention.

" What are you doing out here?" Fleur asked Mad-Eye Moody. The gruff man grunted.

" I could be asking you the same question girly." The man growled. Fleur was unfazed.

" I am taking a walk around the grounds. I do not see anything wrong with that." The French witch shot back.

" At this time in the morning?" The man's false eye spun uncontrollably.

" What is it that you are doing, Professor?" Fleur challenged. The man grumbled.

" That is none of your concern. Now you get back to where you just came from." Moody ordered. Fleur raised an eyebrow, but whirled around in the opposite way nonetheless.

After confirming that Mad-Eye Moody was out of sight, Fleur continued on her exploration. She glanced around for any signs as to what the older man was doing. She came across an empty bottle. She bent down to pick it up, and once she did, she sniffed at it hesitantly.

It smelt of a distinct odor. As if nothing else was capable of smelling similar to it. Like a snow flake. No two are similar. Fleur was confused to the smell. She hadn't the faintest clue of what it was. The French witch took a look around, and stuffed it into her pocket.

Turning away from the spot, she quickly fled from the scene like she committed a crime. She didn't, she was sure of that. The half-Veela was simply picking up what was left behind. She believed her line of thinking was justified. After fleeing a considerable enough distance, she slowed her pace. She soon found herself standing before the infamous Whomping Willow. Fleur saw her breath when she sighed. After the adrenaline wore off, the chill crept upon her skin.

She sat down on the grass. It was damp enough to recognize the slight wetness, but not enough to seep through her pants. As she peered at the wild branches that cut through the air, her thoughts went directly to the one behind her inner turmoil. _Luna_.

How could her mate have a boyfriend? What was so great about _Micheal Corner_? Was she not as desirable? Her allure worked on everyone else, but Luna. Self-doubt clouded her judgement, as tears clouded her vision. The sun began to rise higher into sky. The purple hues of the sky were visible. Fleur soon grew tired of watching the Whomping Willow, and decided it was time to head back to the carriage. When she stuffed her hands into her pockets, she was determined to figure out what the substance of the vial was.

Something seemed off about the new Defence Against The Dark Arts professor, and she was determined to figure out what it was.


	5. Chapter 5: Detention

**Disclaimer: Go see chapter 1**

The clock chimed; Signaling that it was eight o' clock. Fleur groaned in irritation when she realized that she had Potions class. The silvery blonde haired witch scowled at the thought of sitting through her worst subject with Madeline. A sigh escaped her lips when she felt a glare boring into her. If looks could kill, than she would have been hexed on the spot.

Fleur glanced out of the corner of her eye to find the redhead frowning at her. A look of utter disdain colored her face. Fleur simply rolled her eyes, and leaned against the wall beside the door to the room where their classes were temporarily held. The awkward silence was threatening to consume the half-Veela. The silence was like an ocean that was slowly dragging her down.

The blonde chanced another glance at Madeline. She bit back a chuckle at the bruises that covered her nose. She nibbled on her bottom lip to hold back a smile of satisfaction. To pass the time while waiting for their fellow classmates and Headmistress, Fleur decided to whistle. Madeline's scowl deepened.

" Would you shut it?" Madeline hissed.

" How about you join me? All you have to do is purse your lips, and blow out your mouth and nose." Fleur chuckled as the other witch faintly touched her nose.

" Why the hell did you mess up my nose?" Madeline grimaced.

" You insulted someone I care about." Fleur answered darkly.

" You've known her for half a damn day. Why is she so important to you?" Madeline hissed.

" What is it to you?" Fleur asked angrily.

" Well considering that I had my nose busted because of that ditz, I think it is safe to say that it is part of my business." Madeline's eye twitched in repressed anger.

" It is nothing of the sort." Fleur whispered in irritation. Madeline's eyes widened.

" You're in-" Madeline cut herself off with a laugh. Fleur balled her hands into fists by her side. She attempted to control her breathing, but her senses were focused on the laughing red haired witch.

" I do no-" The half-Veela started, but was interrupted by a loud snort, followed by a low "ouch"."

" You love that _little_ girl. Admit it." Madeline challenged smugly.

" I will not admit to anything." Fleur said heatedly. Madeline slowly stalked up to Fleur. She was a hair length away from the blonde.

" Do you really expect me to buy a lie that I _know_ you don't believe, or are you repressing your unrequited feelings?" Madeline whispered.

Before Fleur could do, or say anything, several of their classmates walked up to the wall beside the door, and continued to gossip about anything they heard within the last day. The blonde was clever enough to ignore her violent impulse, and the redhead was decent enough to drop the subject until she knew the actual truth. The two continued to glare daggers at each other until Madam Maxime soon arrived, and unlocked the door.

The students filed into the small room, and each took a seat at a random desk. It was an unspoken rule that Fleur and Madeline were to be separated. Fleur took to the right side of the room, and Madeline took to the left. Once everyone was seated, Madam Maxime stood in the front of the room.

" Dames, open your textbooks to page two hundred and sixty-seven. Today's lesson is how to properly produce polyjuice potion." Madam Maxime announced.

Fleur zoned out of the lesson. She lied her head on her arms, and listened to the rustling of the pages around her. She inhaled deeply, and exhaled sharply. The blonde quickly shot her head up when she felt something connect with the back of her head. Fleur looked forward to see her Headmistress gathering cauldrons. She glanced around the room until her eyes met Madeline's. A wicked smirk crossed Madeline's face, and she motioned for Fleur to read the note that she threw.

Fleur's eyes narrowed, but she complied nonetheless. Once she was assured that Madam Maxime wasn't paying attention, Fleur swiftly retrieved the note from the floor, and unfolded the parchment. When she read the words, a scowl firmly planted itself on her face. Fleur glared darkly at the redhead, and reread the words.

_I can't believe you are in love with a child. It is bloody disgusting._

Fleur hid the note when Madam Maxime placed a cauldron on her desk, and continued down the isle. Once Madam Maxime passed, Fleur ripped out the parchment, and reached for her quill. She dipped it in ink, and scribbled down a retort. She threw the note across the room. Madeline quickly unfolded the note, and read.

_I never said I was._

Madeline wrote out a response, and threw the note back. Fleur opened up the note, ready for the insult that was bound to be written. She sighed in irritation.

_That smells like bullshit._

Fleur scowled at Madeline, who smirked right back. The blonde's grip on her quill was deadly. She furiously wrote down an insult. She tossed back the note to the owner. Madeline quickly read the note, and grimaced.

_How would you know? You can't smell anything through that broken nose of yours._

Madeline threw the note, but it was intercepted by Madam Maxime. She raised an eyebrow questioningly, but said nothing. She signaled to continue with the classwork, and sat behind her desk. The two young witches held their breaths as their Headmistress read the note. She raised an elegant eyebrow. Madam Maxime crumpled the parchment, and threw it into the wastebasket. Without sparing the two witches a glance, the half giant spoke firmly.

" Mademoiselle Delacour, Mademoiselle Antonella, see me after the lesson." Madam Maxime stated calmly.

Fleur and Madeline grumbled their acknowledgment, then sent death glares at each other for the remaining hour of the lesson. The redhead slumped in her seat with a huff, while the blonde scowled into her pathetic excuse of a potion that bubbled in the cauldron. After giving up on redeeming the potion, Fleur rubbed her face with her hands.

" That is enough Potions today. You each have a few minutes to yourselves, but then you are to return for Charms. You are dismissed." Madam Maxime announced.

Fleur and Madeline sighed at what was about to come. With heavy feet, the two escorted themselves to the front of the class. Madeline shifted from foot to foot, while Fleur locked her jaw. The Headmistress leaned back in her chair with her face contorted in an expressionless mask. Madam Maxime remained quiet. She waited for one of the younger women to explain themselves. She didn't have to wait long.

" It was her fault!" " Madeline threw the parchment at me first!" The two yelled simultaneously. The half giant simply raised one of her hands. Silence engulfed the three.

" I do not care who started this juvenile act, but I indeed finished it. This is the second fight you two have performed in the last two days. Therefore, you will both receive detention." Madam Maxime informed them.

" What?!" The students exclaimed as one.

" You heard me, and I will see to it that your detentions are enforced. Do I make myself clear?" She paused, and continued at their nods. " Madeline, you are to cleanse the dishes after dinner for a week. No objection." Madam Maxime ordered at the look of disdain on the redheads face.

" Fleur, you are to aid Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing after classes for a week. I hope this reminds you to remain civil towards one another?" The Headmistress raised an eyebrow in question.

" Yes, Madam Maxime." The two answered quietly.

" You may have a seat." Fleur and Madeline sat in their seats just as the other students were filing into the class.

Fleur scowled at the thought of nursing the sick, and aiding the injured. She thought of herself as useless in that department. With a sigh, Fleur zoned out once again.

* * *

The half-Veela set her jaw as she walked gracefully into the castle. Madam Maxime informed Madam Pomfrey of the incident between the two, and the nurse quickly agreed that help was needed. Fleur groaned when she was instructed to head to the Hospital Wing. Her spirits lifted however when she thought about a certain redhead with her sleeves rolled up, and scrubbing food off of dirty plates.

With one last chuckle, Fleur pushed open the door to the Hospital Wing, and came face to face with one Micheal Corner. Her heightened spirits were quickly smashed, and an uncomfortable silence suffocated her. Micheal glanced at Fleur with confusion, and Fleur stared back with a blank expression.

_Can't break now. Won't break now. Please don't break now._

" Is there something you needed?" The Ravenclaw asked with uncertainty. The seventeen year old had been glaring holes into him for the past few minutes, and he shifted uncomfortably.

" What? I mean no. I don't need anything." Fleur clipped out. Micheal furrowed his eyebrows, but didn't question her again.

The pair remain still and motionless for the next few minutes. Micheal was afraid to break the awkward silence with unbearable small talk, and Fleur was stuck in her silent observation. _What is so special about him? What does he have that I don't? Oh wait... It must be the things between his legs. _Fleur cursed her life for being so complicated. Fate just had to mate her with a _straight fourteen year old girl!_

" What happened to your leg?" Fleur asked when she noticed the cast that the boy was sporting.

" I had an accident in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Professor Moody is quite the character that one." Micheal smiled in relief at the sudden end of silence. He just prayed Madam Pomfrey would arrive soon.

" Moody? As in Mad-Eye Moody? He is the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?" Fleur was on high alert with that man.

" Oh yes. It's like he has eyes on the back of his head. He gave me quite the fright, and I fell on my bum." Micheal informed nonchalantly.

" How did he break your leg?" Fleur automatically assumed Mad-Eye Moody tormented the boy. Micheal laughed lightly.

" Oh he didn't do anything. To us that is. I hear that he performed the Imperious curse on the Fourth years after demonstrating the other Unforgivable curses." Micheal said in awe. Fleur was dumbstruck.

" Well then, what happened to cause your leg to break?" Fleur asked once more. Micheal blushed, and kept his eyes on the white sheets that were tucked into the mattress he was currently occupying.

" Well I was a wee bit terrified of Moody, mind you, and I was in a rush to exit the class." Micheal started.

" What he failed to take into account, was that his book bag was hung around his chair, and in his rush to leave, Micheal ended up falling on his ankle." A familiar voice finished.

Fleur spun around, and met the eyes of a very familiar blonde. The air quickly escaped the older witch's lungs. Luna giggled at the fish-out-of-water face that Fleur was wearing. The giggle snapped the half-Veela back to reality. Fleur laughed nervously, but her laughter quickly died in her throat at the sight of her soulmate comforting someone that wasn't her.

_Can't break. Won't break. Oh god, I'm going to break._

Before Fleur could successfully escape the confines of the shrinking room, Madam Pomfrey decided that that was the right moment to enter.

" Where do you think you are off to, Miss Delacour?" The aging woman asked to the rigid back of the French witch.

" N-nowhere." Fleur cursed the stutter in her voice.

" You have work you need to do. I suggest you start help Mr. Corner." Madam Pomfrey ordered sternly.

Fleur's breath hitched at the thought of facing the two _lovebirds_. The French witch could barely handle being in the same room as the two, let alone nursing him back to a stronger state. With a set jaw, and white knuckles, Fleur slowly turned around, and walked towards the now frightened boy.

" W-wh-what? I th-thought that I needed professional help!" Micheal exclaimed hysterically. Fleur snorted. As if she were going to murder a child. _Well._ Fleur quickly shook off the thought.

" I have already fixed all the damage. Miss Delacour here is simply going to give you a teaspoon of potion to help with the pain." Madam Pomfrey assured the pale thirteen year old.

" Why is Fleur here?" Luna piped up.

" Detention." Madam Pomfrey replied monotonously with a glare in Fleur's direction.

Fleur looked down sheepishly, but poured a teaspoon of the potion nevertheless. She held the spoon out in front of Micheal. Said boy, eyed it warily. Fleur scowled, Madam Pomfrey looked on calmly, and Luna grew exasperated.

" Merlin, Micheal! We watched her as she poured the potion onto the spoon. It isn't as if she is attempting to poison you!" Luna exclaimed.

Micheal opened his mouth in shock at the outburst, and Fleur quickly shoved the spoon into his mouth. With a painfully obvious fake smile, Fleur slammed the spoon onto the tray, and swiftly escaped the prying eyes of the fellow room occupants. The French witch was in the middle of catching deep breaths, when a hand on her shoulder gave her pause.

" Are you feeling well?" Luna asked with concern. Fleur laughed bitterly, and Luna recoiled.

" Shouldn't you be asking your _boyfriend _that question?" Fleur spat the word out like it was poison. The supposed poison that she was silently accused of attempting to feed to the boy.

" Well... I already did. He seems to be quite alright now, but I wanted to make sure my best friend is alright too." Luna said innocently. The older witch's eye twitched. _Best friend._

" I am fine. Thank you for your concern, Luna." Fleur said without meeting the younger blonde's eye.

" Are you sure?" Luna asked as a couple students walked into the Hospital Wing with bloody tissue held to their noses.

" Oui. Now if you'll excuse me, I have more patients to attend to. I don't feel like another week of this." Fleur said bitterly.

" When's the next time we can... I don't know, have fun again?" Luna asked sadly to the back of the French witch. Fleur paused. After a moment, she spoke without turning around.

" I'm busy between detention, classwork, homework, _and _preparing for the first task." Fleur said.

" Are you nervous about the task?" Luna asked with worry. Fleur didn't hesitate.

" No." _I honestly don't care what happens anymore._ With that, Fleur left Luna behind to help the newest idiots.

**Uh oh. It seems like Fleur's closing herself off. Will Luna break down Fleur's walls? Review, and teel me what you think.**


	6. Chapter 6: Inhale then Exhale

The howling winds were rattling the panes of the window. The sky was a deep grey, which prompted the French woman to scowl. Due to the lack of light, it was becoming quite difficult to read the letter she received. The parchment was worn, and the corners were crinkled; A clear sign of the repeated times it was folded and unfolded. There were blotches on certain words.

Not tears of grief. No, it was the tears of relief. It was tears from the weight that was placed on the woman's shoulders rising. The woman's tense shoulders slumped in relaxation. For the past few years, desperation clouded the French woman's sense of mind. If she was that wound up, she was fearful of how her daughter felt.

Yes, Apolline was terrified for her eldest daughter's well-being. Every mother is afraid to let their child have full control of themselves, but when the French woman read Fleur's letter, elation bubbled inside of her chest. Her heavy heart soared inside of her rib cage. Apolline practically felt the smile that was no doubt on her daughter's face as she wrote the letter.

She sighed as she eventually dismissed the thought of successfully reading the words on the parchment. Although she knew she words from heart, she found comfort in the worn out letter. Another sigh escaped her throat when her mind wandered to her own response to her half-Veela daughter's confessions. Apolline responded in French. Their conversation was important, and one could never be too careful with keeping things from unwanted eyes.

_My dearest Fleur,  
_

_That is wonderful news! Words can't explain how elated I am to know that you are reunited with your mate. You see, I told you that in due time, you would find your other half, but by the looks of it, I have to say that _she_ found _you._ Nargle? What is a nargle? Is that something from your little magazine? By the way, I noticed that it isn't in your room. You usually tend to keep it safe at home during the school year. Now why do you think you took it? Fate has a clever way of working things does it not? As for your sister, I am beginning to grow hesitant. I am startled to say in the least that I have not received a letter from one of her professors. That is highly unusual for the two of you. Your father and I are fine dear. We are growing unnerved by your choice to enter the Triwizard Tournament. Are you sure that this is what you want? You do not have to do this Fleur. Please reply with how you are doing. By the time you get this letter, I am afraid that it will be after the Champions are chosen._

_Love,  
Mère  
_

She sent her letter a week before. Apolline Delacour folded the letter, and stuffed it into the pockets of her robes. She glanced out at the darkening atmosphere that was know as her front yard. The French witch closed her eyes as she inhaled deeply. After holding it in for a few moments, she exhaled heavily. She hadn't yet received a reply from Fleur. Her happiness was soon waning, and dread was taking its place. She was desperate to hear that her daughter was well. When Fleur wouldn't respond immediately, it was never a good sign.

When she caught sight of an owl a few days after she sent her letter, she felt a rush of excitement. It slowly faded when she opened the letter. A scowl marked her features when she realized that Fleur received detention for hassling another student. It wasn't informed in the letter of who the other student was, but Apolline had a sneaking suspicion of who it was. The French witch always received letters informing her of her daughter's behavior, and it was usually Madeline who was the culprit.

Apolline was not hesitant to side with Fleur. She had met the Antonella family, and to say that the whole family was pretentious snobs would be an understatement. Mark Antonella was the most arrogant man she had ever met. He flaunted his wealth like it made him the most important man in the world. Unfortunately, wealth was all that mattered to the Wizarding world and Muggle world alike. _Like father like daughter._ Apolline thought with hatred.

With a final glance out the window of her study, Apolline spun on her heel, and left the room. All that was on her mind was her daughters, and worrying about their well-being.

* * *

Fleur sighed at the blank parchment that lied before her. Her mother sent her a letter a week before, and she still couldn't find the right words to say. She had no doubt that her mother was excited for her, and she didn't want to crush her hope. For the past few years, Fleur noticed her mother's cautious glances. It was no secret that her mother was scared for her, and the thought of dashing her hopes crippled her with guilt.

The fact that she procrastinated on her response for her mother had her in a pit of self-loathing. Fleur's hopes of seeming alright were non-existing. Apolline knew her like the back of her hand; Especially when it came to her erratic behavior. So no, there was no hope for her mother _not _knowing.

Sighing, Fleur turned her gaze to her surroundings. The French witch was seated under a tree within the school grounds. A light breeze erupted, and caused her parchment to crinkle. There were sounds of splashing to her right. Fleur turned to see a couple of fifth years splashing each other in the lake. Laughter bubbled from their throats. The half-Veela grew jealous.

She began to wonder why she couldn't be that happy. All she felt was empty. Empty and furious. She was angered by her twisted situation. The French witch happened to run into the love of her life while hoping that she was chosen as a champion in a deadly tournament. She didn't know if there was anything more twisted than that.

The sounds of coughing shook her from her thoughts. She glanced up to find Harry standing over her. Happy for a distraction, Fleur patted the spot next to her. Harry shuffled from foot to foot awkwardly for a few seconds. Fleur raised an eyebrow questioningly. Finally, Harry decided to appease the witch, and sat next to her. Maybe a little closer than either of them expected.

The blush on Harry's cheeks endeared Fleur. A soft chuckle escaped her lips. The awkward boy managed to lift her spirits; Something that hadn't happened in the last few days. Not since she walked away from Luna in the Hospital Wing. Shaking the depressing thought away, Fleur offered the boy a small smile. Harry returned it, albeit a shy one. It was still a smile.

" So, what tempted you to disturb my writing?" Fleur asked with a smile on her face to show she wasn't serious.

" Well, the whole school seems to be against me at the moment, so I decided that the 'cold heartless French' wouldn't be bad company. Their words not mine?" Harry raised his arms in defense. Fleur sighed.

" Don't you have... I don't know, friends?" Fleur asked. The word seemed foreign on her tongue.

" They have this crazy idea that I entered my name in the goblet. I wonder where they got that idea from." Harry chuckled bitterly. Fleur smiled and gave Harry's hand a squeeze.

" I don't want your sympathy." Harry snapped as he ripped his hand away despite the blush that formed on his cheeks.

" It isn't sympathy. It's empathy. I wouldn't really know what it's like to have friends." Her smile turned sad.

" Really? I never would have guess." Harry's words were genuine.

" Oui. When you'e a 'cold heartless French', you tend to not understand the concept of friendship." Fleur muttered darkly. Harry placed a tentative hand on Fleur's knee.

" Well, now you do. You have me. Not to mention a certain blonde." Harry said.

Fleur's eyes widened. Her pulse quickened. Her breathing became shallow. She attempted to deny everything. Even if she wasn't being accused of anything. The words wouldn't escape her closing throat. Harry, sensing her distraught, moved his hand to her shoulder.

" Hey. What's got you so worried?" Concern slipped into his tone. Fleur's eyes hardened.

" Nothing. Now if you'll excuse me." Fleur pushed herself off the ground, and was quick to gather her things.

" Don't prove them right." Harry spoke quietly, yet firmly. Fleur paused.

" What are you talking about?" Fleur snapped harshly.

" Don't be the 'cold heartless French' that everyone claims you to be. You are not cold. In fact, I think most of the guys here think you're hot. You are anything but heartless. The look of utter heartbreak that occasionally appears on your face when you think no one is looking is proof enough to say otherwise. As for the French part, your race doesn't define you. Your actions do. So please, do not shut me out. I only want to be your friend." Harry said.

By the end of Harry's speech, Fleur's façade cracked, and tears pooled in her eyes. She gripped Harry's arms, and pulled him into a hug. After the initial shock wore off, Harry returned the hug awkwardly. After a few moments, Fleur released him, and Harry's cheeks were blushing furiously.

" Thank you Harry. I would enjoy your friendship also." Fleur said tearfully.

" Great. I, uh, I got to go. It was nice talking to you. I'll chat with you later." Harry was quick to run off, leaving a highly confused Fleur behind.

* * *

Luna was sitting in the common room of the Ravenclaw tower hand in hand with Michael. He was chattering mindlessly, and Luna nodded absentmindedly. Truth was, she felt guilty. Michael was sweet and caring, but her mind was on Fleur. She felt guilty that her mind was more occupied by the French witch instead of her boyfriend. Her _hurt _boyfriend.

" What do you think, Luna?" Michael asked. Luna panicked slightly.

" I agree." Luna said with a bated breath. Michael brightened.

" Cool! So you'll be rooting for Viktor too?" He asked. Luna sighed.

" Sure." Luna whispered shakily.

" That's great. I'm betting a galleon on Krum." Michael informed triumphantly.

" Wait... what?" Luna asked confused.

" The Weasley twins are holding bets on who'll win in the first task. I'm placing a bet on Krum." Michael explained slowly. Like she was an idiot. Luna snapped.

" You think this is a joke? It isn't! Fl-Their lives are in danger, Michael! People have died in this, and you're getting your entertainment from whether or not they win? You're not worried about their bloody safety?" Luna's voice was getting louder and louder.

" It was their own choice. They were brutally aware of the consequences when they entered. If the champions were afraid, then they were pretty daft to enter their names." Michael defended. A few classmates turned to see what the commotion was about.

" Don't call Fleur daft." Luna snapped angrily. Michael's eyes narrowed.

" This is what it's about, isn't it? You care about Fleur." Michael said.

" So what if I do? She is my best friend." Luna stated.

" You're acting as if you love her." Michael scoffed. Luna stiffened.

_What did he say? _Did she love Fleur? No. There were so many reasons why she didn't. Why she couldn't. First, Fleur was seventeen. Luna was fourteen. She celebrated her birthday less than a week ago, but it didn't matter if she was thirteen or fourteen. She was too young.

It startled Luna that the age difference was the first thing that came to her mind. Not the fact that Fleur was the same gender. In a strange way, it didn't bother her as significantly as the age difference. Did she love her? No. Could she? Maybe. Did that scare her? Definitely.

" I do care about her. She's my friend." Luna said quietly.

" Is she? You haven't seen her in the past few days!" Michael challenged. He instantly regretted it when tears formed in her eyes.

" She is. Losing her friendship isn't an option." Luna said shakily.

" You barely know her. Why do you care so much?" Michael asked. He was honestly confused.

Why did she care so much? Sure, they had met all those years ago. Sure, she felt an instant connection, and that terrified her. That's why she bolted when Fleur wasn't looking. As much as it hurt to ignore Fleur's pleas to return, she carried on. To the present day, Luna regretted it. It tore her apart. Why? She didn't know. Was she determined to never let Fleur slip away again? Completely.

" I wish to find out more about her." Luna informed with a smile. Michael looked away.

" Does she give you butterflies?" He asked hesitantly. Fleur looked away guiltily. Michael had his answer.

" It's just a sign of a strong friendship." The blonde explained. Michael shook his head.

" You don't feel this strongly about friends." Michael said sadly.

" I am with you." Luna assured.

" Are you? Half the time you're in your own world. I used to find that endearing, but now I know who's there with you." Michael was growing angry.

" I'm sorry, but I don't have to justify my friendship with Fleur to you." Luna said hotly.

" Really? When your _friendship_ is threatening our_relationship_, I think it is my business. You say you care about me, but I don't think it surpasses Fleur." Michael said brokenly.

Luna wanted to ease his mind. She really did. Honestly. Only she couldn't. In actuality, Fleur's unexpected arrival unveiled a few things. What Luna thought was close to love, it was really relief that someone wanted her. She was relieved that Michael wanted to be her boyfriend. _Hers! _Loony Lovegood. The blonde always believed that no one would want her. Not in that forever kind of way. So when Michael asked her out a year ago, she was ecstatic, and agreed quickly. All she felt now was numb. Numb and guilt. Guiltily numb.

So when Luna looked into Michael's eyes, her resolve crumbled. The tears she was holding back was streaming down her face full force. Michael made a grab for her hand, but she pulled away as if she were burned. In a way, it did. She felt burnt. The room was warm. She had to get out. She had to escape. Luna quickly fled from the common room, and up to the girls' dormitory. Once there, she came across Padma Patil. When Padma caught sight of her upset friend, she quickly embraced her friend with a tight hug. Luna fell into the hug, and began to sob quietly. Padma gently rocked them back and forth, whispering soothing words until Luna's sobs became nothing for than sniffles.

" What happened, Luna?" The darker skinned girl asked. The blonde sniffled.

" I realized that Michael isn't the one for me. I don't think he ever was." Luna exclaimed sadly.

" That's too bad. You two seemed content not more than a week ago. What happened?" The brunette asked gently.

" A French witch happened." Luna explained cryptically. Padma, who didn't understand, stiffened.

" He left you for some Beauxbatons witch?" Padma asked slowly. Dangerously.

" NO! Merlin no. That isn't it at all." Luna rushed to explain. Padma glanced at her curiously.

" Then what does this have to do with this French witch?" Padma asked hesitantly.

Luna sighed, and pulled away from her friend. They have always been close. When Luna couldn't keep certain things to herself, she usually confided in Padma, or Cho Chang. Granted she was above her grade wise, but inside, she was the same as Fleur. They weren't 'best friend' close, but Cho wasn't just a face in the hallway. This was just like one of those times. Wasn't it? Then why couldn't she speak the words out loud? Was she in denial? Possibly. It was just a crush. That's the thing about crushes, they pass.

_Or they could blossom to full blown love. _A voice that sounded distinctly like Fleur's. Luna stiffened. No. It couldn't turn into love. She refused. Luna might not want to be with Michael, but it didn't mean it was right to be with Fleur. It wasn't acceptable. Luna sighed irritatingly. She ran a hand threw her hair. She inhaled. Exhaled. That was it. Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. Luna ran a shaky hand down her uniform in an attempt to do something with her hands. She didn't know what to do with them.

" Luna? Are you alright?" Padma asked with concern.

" Y-yes." Luna stammered. Padma didn't look sure.

" Who is this witch, and why did she break up you and Michael?" Padma asked suspiciously. Luna sighed.

" Her name is Fleur-" Luna started, but Padma cut her off.

" Fleur Delacour?! As in the Beauxbatons Champion, Fleur Delacour?! What did she do?" The brunette asked shocked.

" Her sister ran into me years ago." Luna whispered. Nostalgia engulfed the blonde.

" Um... I am afraid that I'm a tad lost. Care to explain?" Padma asked.

Luna sighed, but thought it over. What was the harm of telling her? Padma was a friend. She would know what to do to help her with the situation at hand. After a few shaky breaths, and a handful of internal objections, she explained everything. It wasn't hard to remember. In fact, she remembered everything about that day. How the weather was, where she was at, and even her outfit. Luna explained how she was walking through the forest. She told Padma that she was reading her father's magazine. She told her of how a little girl, no younger than she, ran into her. Then she explained how Fleur helped her, and the shock she felt when their hands met.

" What does that mean? We were meant to be best friends. Right?" Luna asked tentatively. Padma was lost in thought.

Luna was really shaken up by the older witch, and Padma wasn't positive of how she felt about the whole ordeal. Fleur was seventeen! Not to mention she was a female! It wasn't right. Why? Because of the fact that Fleur was older by _years_, or because she was a woman? Was it because of both? It was frustrating both of the young girls to no end.

" I don't know, Luna. I'm sorry. I wish I could give you more, but maybe you should talk to Fleur. You know, _before _she faces whatever the fist task is. It's only a couple of weeks away." Padma urged. Luna glanced away.

" I don't know, Padma. I haven't the faintest clue on where we stand." Luna whispered on the urge of crying again.

" What do you mean?" Padma asked.

" The two of us haven't really spoke a single word to each other in the past couple of days." Luna said sadly.

" Why not?" Padma was growing confused.

" I don't know. It's just that every time Fleur comes across me and Michael, she grows strained. Almost as if she can't wait to escape." The small smile that Padma wore confused Luna.

" She likes you." Padma said quietly.

" What? No she doesn't." Luna attempted to brush off the turn of events, but Padma wasn't having any of it.

" She likes you. She _like _likes you." Padma laughed at the blush that colored Luna's cheeks.

" So what if she does? It doesn't mean that anything romantic will happen." Luna deadpanned.

" You never know." Padma said as she gazed out at the school grounds.

" What do you know. There she is now." Padma said offhandedly.

" What? Where?" Luna asked quickly, but calmed herself.

" You _like _like her, too." Padma said with a faint chuckle.

" No." Luna drawled. " We are friends. _Best _friends." Luna emphasized. Padma snorted.

" Sure." The brunette said sarcastically.

" I'm serious." Luna stressed weakly.

Padma turned to her friend. She placed her hands on her shoulders, and shook her slightly when her eyes began to wonder to the ground beneath their feet. She lifter her head gently.

" Listen to me, Luna. Okay? It is okay. Everything will work out in the end. You'll see." Padma promised. An empty promise. She didn't know for sure. That was the funny thing. No one did. Not Padma. Not Michael. Not Luna. Not even Fleur. Only fate.


	7. Chapter 7: Uncomfortable Ordeal

**A/N: Okay so this chapter is darker than the previous chapters. There will be other chapters like this one in the future, but it won't happen frequently. You've been warned.**

**A/N2: Okay so I went back, and fixed not only ALL my mistakes, but I changed my writing of a French accent. It just didn't look right, and I hated it almost as much as a few people have.**

_Drip drip drip. _The faint dripping of the faucet was all that was heard throughout the silent lavatory. A pair of hands gripped the the sides of the sink with such force, that the white knuckles were turning a shade paler. The reflection in the mirror was a far cry of healthy. Skin was deathly pale; Eyes were bloodshot; Her mouth was hanging open slightly. Air was a tough thing to force into her lungs. The blonde's grip tightened around the sink.

_Dragons. Fucking dragons. _Were the administrators serious? Fleur knew the dangerous scenarios of the tournament, but she never thought of dragons. Where did they even find them? The French witch thought Harry said something about someone name Charlie and something about Romania, but she couldn't be positive. All she was able to focus on was the fact that she could very possibly be reduced to a pile of ash. Right in front of the entire student and teacher body. Right in front of Luna.

Fleur sighed at the water droplets that continued to fall from the faucet. _Drip drip drip. _With every drip, a second ticked by. _Tick tick tick. _The moonlight peered through the thin curtains, and illuminated the white walls. Fleur's headache intensified. The throbbing pain grew behind her eyes. She raised her palms to her eyes, and pressed tightly. By the time Fleur removed her hands, darkness faintly covered the edges of her sight. Stars began to form. Fleur groaned, and slid down the wall next to the sink.

She felt sick to her stomach. How was she supposed to get passed a dragon? A Hungarian Horntail? Without a shadow of a doubt, Fleur was desperate to avoid that particular dragon. It was feisty, temperamental, and deadly. If she was able to choose, the French witch's first choice was the Swedish Shortsnout. It was just as protective of their eggs, but it was gentler that the Hungarian Horntail. With that thought in mind, Fleur felt calmer. Not all the dragons had killer instincts. There was a one in four chance of receiving the most dominant species of dragons. Her heart had a one in four chance of stopping.

Bringing her knees to her chest, Fleur released a shaky breath. _Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. _Did she want to repeat? Did she want to continue breathing? Fleur was torn. To breathe or not to breathe? To live or not to live? Yet there she was on the ground, breathing erratically. The air was entering her lungs with trouble; A clear sign of the oncoming panic attack. Why was she panicking? Wasn't death what she wanted? What she hoped for? Now, she was indecisive. That was troubling the half-Veela. She despised the lack of control. She was a Delacour dammit! Delacours were always in control. Whether it be over something petty, or the control over an entire situation. Control was in her blood.

Wait... Why did she need control? Was it because of her Delacour blood? Maybe it was due to the Veela blood that ran through her veins. That sickened Fleur. She wanted to get rid of the Veela blood. She wanted to cut it out of herself until it bled itself out. Subconsciously, Fleur began to scratch at her stomach as her eyes were unfocused. Her nails dug deeper into her skin. They pricked her skin until tiny droplets of blood leaked from the crescent shaped marks. _Drip drip drip. _Feeling the crimson liquid on her fingers, Fleur relaxed slightly. She was in control. Something she hadn't felt since she met Luna.

Releasing a heavy sigh, Fleur glanced at the razor that was lying on the edge of the sink. It was mocking her. Or was it calling her? Fleur didn't really know. What she did realize was that her arm was outstretched, and reaching for the blade. With a firm grasp on the cool metal, Fleur examined it. It was dulled a bit, but it was enough to pierce the skin. It was enough to calm her completely. Enough to give her control. With a final swipe at the tiny droplets of blood, The French witch raised her shirt.

The half-Veela wasn't sure why she preferred to mutilate her stomach, but it was the favorite place of her body to shred. Her stomach was the canvas. The scars were her art. The blade was the brush. In that moment, she was going to ease her stress by making a beautiful painting. Red always was her favorite color. Sharp always was her favorite texture. Pain always was her favorite feeling. In Fleur's mind, she was an artist, and her canvas was to be covered in red.

With a steady hand, Fleur brought the razor to her stomach, and applied pressure. She saw the blood before she felt the sharp pain that came hand in hand with it. Fleur drew the blade in a straight line. She cut across previous scars. Some were a faint line. Some were still welted and raging. It didn't matter whether they were old or new, they were being reopened. Fleur slashed at her skin once again. This time it was diagonally. The blood was flowing from her stomach. It slowly oozed to the hem of her jeans. The blood blended in with the black material.

Blood was on her fingers. Under her nails. Leaking onto the white tile flooring. Slash after slash, and the blood was still pouring heavily. Scratch after scratch, and the marks were still marring her porcelain body. Drip after drip, and her Veela blood was still evading her. Thought after thought, and the voices still raged. The voices that told her she was never enough. If only she tried harder. If only she were as beautiful on the inside, as people claimed her to be on the outside.

Fatigue slowly claimed the blonde. With shaky legs, she hoisted herself from the floor, and dropped the razor. With a loud _clatter_, the razor fell into the vastly growing pool of blood. Grateful that she used the bathroom that was connected to her room, Fleur decided to save cleaning her mess for another time. While using the wall as leverage, the French witch slowly scuffled her way to her bed. She prayed she didn't cut too deep. She hoped her dizziness was due to the amount of cuts, and not the depth. She had appearances to make.

Her stomach began to throb. The physical pain lessened the emotion suffering that consumed her. Fleur's emotions were jumbled, and it was pissing her off. The witch decided to lie on her stomach. Sure, she'd need different bed spreads, but it would be enough pressure to end the blood flow. The sheets irritated her cuts, but the irritation made Fleur feel something besides empty. After growing accustomed to the slight pain, Fleur forced her muscles to lose tension. She slowed her breathing, and listened to the nothingness that surrounded her. _Tick tick tick. _

Seconds passed, but her thought process refused to slow. If anything, it quickened. _What am I going to do? _Banishing any thoughts of her possible demise in the tournament, Fleur changed tracks on her train of thought. She instantly regretted it. She wasn't in the mood to think about Luna. Fleur distanced herself from the younger blonde when she felt herself growing highly furious. She didn't want to snap at Luna and spill certain things she wasn't ready to admit. Besides, if the younger girl cried, Fleur'd be screwed. Her resolve would crumble.

After she pushed the fourteen year old's face out of her mind, Fleur thought of her mother. Shame engulfed her when the blood stained sheets reminded her of her actions not ten minutes before. Her mother would no doubt be disappointed in her. That thought filled her with sorrow. There was nothing worse than a disappointed parent. Well, perhaps an outraged parent. Fleur shuddered. After clearing her mind, Fleur snuggled deeper into the bed, and fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

The sunlight peeked through the curtains. It burned Fleur's eyes. With a groan, she rubbed the remnants of sleep from her eyes. The sense of a sticky substance made her pause. Flashbacks of the previous night flashed before her eyes. The pale witch paled even more. She pushed herself up warily. Fleur scowled as the sheets stuck to her body. She furiously ripped the sheets off, and winced at the sharp sting that it resulted in.

Red stains was what she saw. _Everywhere. _Fleur's gaze quickly examined her stomach. Vomit quickly rose in her throat. After forcing the bile down, Fleur tentatively pushed herself off the bed. With slow steady paces, she managed to make it to the bathroom. The Frenchwoman paled considerably at the sight she left behind the previous night. After releasing a shaky groan, (Although it came out more of a whimper) Fleur pushed the dried over crusted blood puddles to the back of her mind. With determination, the half-Veela pushed forth to settle the situation at hand.

Towels were stacked neatly upon one another on the rack in the corner of the room. Paying it no mind, Fleur absentmindedly grasped a rag that was placed on the bottom. With a forceful tug, every one of the towels tumbled to the floor, and scattered into nothing more than a pile of cloths. Choosing to ignore the further mess, the witch wet the hand rag in the sink. Fleur glanced at the mirror. She regretted it the second she looked.

_Worn down. _Those words were an understatement to the mess her eyes witnessed. Her usually tame blonde mane was in a heap of knots, tangles, and unruly curls. Her hair looked dirty to the touch. _Merlin! My hair wasn't this messy last night. Was it? _Thinking back on it, the Frenchwoman realized that with all the attempts to pull her hair out, it was bound to destroy her hair in some way. Lifting her hand to touch a strand of hair, Fleur scowled at the limp lifeless strand.

Her eyes were drawn to her face next. Fleur's face was damp with sweat, and she looked clammy. _A Delacour never presents themselves with less than their best._ Fleur thought to herself with disgust. She was certainly at rock bottom as far as her appearance went. There were dark bags under her eyes to announce her restless nights. Her lips were chapped from the amount of times she chew on them until the bled. There were lines on her forehead; A sign of her permanent frown.

Fleur was almost afraid to shift her gaze to her stomach. Even though she caught sight of her body in bed, the sight still brought vomit to her mouth. Slowly glancing down, the half-Veela hissed at the reflection. Her stomach was littered with scars. Old ones, new ones, and reopened ones. She didn't discriminate. The blood that was dried to her stomach was growing uncomfortable. Subconsciously, Fleur scratched at the crusts of blood. A sharp sting reminded her that it wasn't the time to make her blood flow yet again.

The clothes she wore were wrinkled beyond repair. The button up shirt she wore was unbuttoned, and hung open to reveal her secret she kept constantly. It was also drenched in blood. Fleur scowled at the obvious fact that her beloved white shirt would soon grow pink. _How abhorrently uncoordinated. _Fleur huffed distastefully. Her pants were in no better condition. They were stained around the waist. Great.

Deciding that a shower was more efficient, the Frenchwoman hopped in the shower. After setting the water to the right temperature, Fleur closed her eyes, and allowed the water to cascade down her body. She placed her shaky hands on the opposite wall from her, and released a heavy albeit shaky sigh. When she opened her eyes, she watched as the crusted blood washed off her stomach, and down to the shower floor. After a few seconds, the blood flakes spiraled down the drain.

Fleur leaned against the shower wall, and slowly slid down. Faint water droplets hit her face as she faced the ceiling. After pondering her next course of action, she grabbed the hair products, and lathered her hair with it. Hoisting herself off the floor, she stood to wash her hair free of any remnants of the shampoo and conditioner. After a few more minutes of cleaning herself, Fleur shut off the water, and picked up a towel that was on the bathroom floor. Successfully drying herself, she wrapped the towel around herself, and exited the bathroom.

She was startled when she walked into the room to find her bed bare, and sheets stripped. Her breathing quickened. Her vision blurred. Fleur felt warm despite the breeze she felt on her damp skin, but it didn't have anything to do with the shower. It was due to fear. Fear that someone found out. Fear of being a social outcast. Well, an even bigger one. Unbeknownst to Fleur, there were tears streaming down her newly freshened face.

Was it too late to shrug the situation off? Maybe whoever stripped the bed of the soiled sheets thought it wasn't as bad as it seemed. Perhaps they merely thought it was her time of the month. Fleur mentally smacked herself on the forehead. Of course no one would believe that. Running her hand through her hair, Fleur began to silently panic. She wasn't sure who came into her room. She didn't know who saw her evidence. She only prayed that they didn't peek into the bathroom. The blood still caked the floor. The blonde was second away from her oncoming panic attack, but the sound of the doorknob twisting seized her breathing all together. All that mattered in that moment was who was on the other side of the door. Not that the bathroom door was ajar. Not that she was in nothing but a too small towel. All she thought of was who in there right mind thought they had free access to _her _room. Seconds later, she got her answer.

" Gabrielle?!" Fleur shrieked in a high pitched voice.

" Fleur." The youngest sister said with sad eyes.

" Wh... I... Your supposed to be back at Beauxbatons!" Fleur snapped.

If she was scared before, the oldest sister was downright terrified in that moment. Fleur never wanted her sister to ever witness her at her lowest. In that moment, she was at her weakest. Never had she cut that harshly. That deeply. It was a snap decision, and Fleur had little to no control over herself. Looking back on it, she regretted her decision. It was reckless, shameful, and flat out messy. Her floors were undoubtedly going to be stained.

" What are you doing here?" Fleur cleared her throat to stop her voice from wavering. Her attempts were futile. Gabrielle crossed her arms over her chest tightly. Her Delacour scowl was firmly in place.

" Someone needs to watch after you. Did you think I wouldn't find out that Luna Lovegood is here? After your mishap last time, I knew exactly what you were going to do. In fact, I knew why you entered this damn tournament all together! So when I sent an owl to Ms. Maxime, she sent for me." Gabrielle explained coldly.

" What about classes?" Fleur was getting desperate to find reason for her sister to return to Beauxbatons.

" Please, I'm going to be learning from Madam Maxime just like you." The youngest scoffed. Fleur pinched the bridge of her nose.

" Are you sure about this?" Her voice came out as pleading. Gabrielle smirked.

" But of course, my dear sister. Besides, Madam Maxime enjoys my company." The younger sister chuckled mirthlessly.

" Only because she's gotten used to it. You've been sent to her office a hell of a lot more than once!" Fleur quipped darkly.

The twelve year old waved the comment off. No matter how true it may have been. Instead of responding, she opted to perch herself on the end of the bare bed. In the middle of the mattress, was a large brownish stain. Fleur's jaw tensed, and she tightened her hold on her towel. Realizing how bare she must have felt, Gabrielle stood from the bed, and turned around to give her older sister some privacy. Fleur smiled gratefully even though it was to the back of her head. Fleur never rushed as fast as she did in that moment, in her entire life. Standing half naked in front of your little sister can give you an adrenaline rush like that.

" Well? Are you done yet?" Gabrielle asked impatiently. Before Fleur could answer, she turned around anyway. The older of the two was rushing to put on a shirt, so the other caught sight of the mangled mess that was, _used_, to be her stomach. A soft gasp escaped her lips.

" G-Gabrielle?" Fleur asked hesitantly.

The youngest stayed quiet. Why though? Was it due to shock? Or because words failed her? Gabrielle, for once in her life, was stunned speechless. It was a challenge to shut her up once she started, so the silence unnerved Fleur significantly. Her posture was rigid, and the deafening silence was only wounding her up tighter. Eventually, she would snap just like a rubber band that has been stretched to it's limit. The situation was similar to a rubber band in fact. The silence would stretch her to her limit, then she'd snap, and they were bound to get hurt. The question was, who'd get hurt the most? The person pulling on the rubber band? (Gabrielle) Or the rubber band itself? (Fleur)

" I didn't know it was this bad. I bet maman doesn't know the full extant of this as well hmm?" Her voice was flat. It held no emotion. It gave nothing away. However, it _was _enough to startle Fleur.

" P-Please. Please don't tell mother. I am begging you." Fleur cried. Her eyes were already watering because of her fear. Their mother could _not _find out about what she had done._  
_

" I am worried Fleur. What am I to do about this?" Gabrielle sounded defeated. Almost as much as her older sister was.

" I will stop. I swear." Fleur begged. Her sister frowned.

" Are you even sure you can? Do not lie to me." She warned.

" No." Fleur whispered while staring at the floor. She closed her eyes tightly so the tears wouldn't fall. A soft sob caused her to snap her head up. Her heart constricted at the sight before her. Fleur always swore to never hurt her sister. To protect her from the harsh reality of life. It seemed she broke her own promise because Gabrielle stood with her hand clamped over her mouth, and tears threatening to pour out of her eyes.

" Gab-" Fleur started, but her sister cut her off.

" Don't." Was all she said. It was impossible to say more due to her throat closing due to her attempts of holding back her sobs.

" I promise I will try my hardest to quit." Fleur promised.

" Does Luna even know?" Gabrielle whispered. Fleur furrowed her eyebrows.

" Why would I tell her about this?" She grew confused. Gabrielle laughed bitterly.

" Why _would _you tell her about this? You won't even confide in maman. I am talking about her being your soul mate! You are real thick sometimes." The youngest muttered scornfully. Realization dawned on Fleur.

" I did not tell her. She is only fourteen years old. She is far too innocent to know about this." Fleur said while crossing her arms.

" I don't know, sis. She seems pretty insightful." Gabrielle thought aloud. Fleur clenched her fists.

" You spoke to her?" She hissed through her gritted teeth. Gabrielle raised an eyebrow.

" Is someone growing tired of my antics? Now you know how it feels." She countered. Fleur's face was burning with anger.

" This is not funny. What did you say to her?" Fleur whispered. Her voice wasn't capable of growing louder. She was too outraged. Gabrielle realized she was standing to close to the fire, and decided to reel back a bit. She raised her hands in surrender.

" I only introduced myself, and thought up a lie as to why I am here." She promised. Fleur stared at her for a second before accepting what she said. The oldest of the pair sighed, and ran a hand over her face.

" What am I to do?" Fleur asked rhetorically. Gabrielle answered anyway.

" You can start by cleaning up your bathroom floor." She whispered. Fleur reeled back as if she were slapped.

" W-What did you say?" Fleur stuttered. It appeared that it wasn't her best day. In fact, it very well could be her worst.

" You heard me loud and clear." Gabrielle shot back darkly. Fleur sighed.

" I-" Gabrielle interrupted her once again.

" If what you have to say next is some half hearted apology, then I do not want to hear it." She ordered. Fleur sighed, but said nothing else on the matter.

" Fine. What do I do about the tournament? I have to face a dragon!" She decided to change the subject.

Gabrielle raised an eyebrow. She sat herself down on the edge of the bed once more. she crossed her legs, and pursed her lips in concentration. How _was _she supposed to help her sister? Dragons were rough creatures. Ruthless in fact. If she thought about it, Gabrielle couldn't really do anything. All she could give was bad advice, and a sorrowful good luck when what she really felt like saying would be, " I wouldn't want to be you.". What kind of sister would she be if she said that though. A _terrible _one. So instead of being a bystander, Gabrielle decided to support her sister with everything she had.

" Well, we help you with your game plan of course." She informed with a sad smile.

" What did you have in mind?" Fleur asked. Gabrielle just smiled, and launched into her theory.

**A/N3: Okay, so there was no Luna in this chapter. Sorry for the wait, I just had writer's block, but now I am cure. A few people have asked about the story being rated M. Okay, so there will be absolutely NO sexual activity between Fleur and Luna. Just a few different reasons for the rating. Luna is WAY too young for anything of the sort. However, do not fear. I do plan on writing the rest of the series starting from Book 4 to the last. Leave a comment, and tell me what you thought. **


End file.
